


We Are Not Getting Back Together Ever Again!

by HillaryLeonor



Series: As Told By Hillary: Dr. Hillary Rodham's Guide To Love and Relationships [1]
Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 20th c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Mind Sex, New York, POV First Person, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-01-19 09:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12407688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HillaryLeonor/pseuds/HillaryLeonor
Summary: [Friends with Benefits AU] Hillary, deciding that she needs to be serious with her life, ends her sexual relations with Bill. It ends up far more difficult than she has anticipated.Rated E for "Extra Offensive". "Extra Smut" also works.





	1. We Are Not Sleeping Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I know, I know, I still have an unfinished fic and I promise that It's not yet abandoned. I was writing this piece for a while now and I thought I'd post it to see if it's too offensive to some readers. Hahahaha. This fic is written in Hillary's POV entirely. I hope you'll like it! 
> 
> Rated E for "Extra Offensive"

Okay, I can do this. Chill, Hillary. Don’t freak out. Bill will surely keep it cool.

I took a deep breath as I stood outside his apartment. For safety, I brought an entire plate of my homemade peach pie, just in case that he decided to go nuts. Though I was 95% sure that he would just shrug it off, I was still iffy with that remaining five percent. I know, I know. What I was about to do was perfectly fine, since he himself told me to just tell him if I wanted to move on. Well, I did want to move on. But somehow, I had an inkling that he wouldn’t be too happy about it.

I raised my hand and softly knocked his door three times. Like clockwork, the door opened, and a topless Bill welcomed me with a dirty smirk on his face. God, he looked so sexy. Before I could say anything, he pulled me towards him and covered my lips with his, nibbling mine as his hands explored my back and my ass. Somehow, my free hand made its way to his neck and played with his thick hair. Damn he was good. So good. I could remain in his arms forever.

Nope. I couldn’t and shouldn’t.

Before my mind had completely shut down and succumbed to his magnetic attraction, I broke away from the kiss. He wasn’t deterred though. He thought that I was just playing hard to get. He bit his lower lip, and it made my knees wobble like jelly. I remained strong, though. I gently pushed him and made my way to his couch and casually sat there. I placed the peach pie on the coffee table.

“Is this a new game you wanna play?” he teased as he sat down next to me. He hung his arm over my shoulder and tried to nibble my ear.

“No, Bill.” Bill’s ministrations tickled my neck, and my sensitive shoulders moved on their own. I knew he was proverbially punching his fist in the air for eliciting this reaction from me, but I was determined to get down to business.

“And you brought my favorite peach pie too!” Bill finally noticed the dessert I brought. I hoped that it would suffice because I was pretty sure that the dessert he was expecting to have that night was me.

“Yeah, it’s for you,” I said. I took advantage of his distraction from me to do what I was supposed to. “Listen, Bill. I’m not gonna sleep with you tonight.”

“Why? Work?” Bill planted a kiss on my shoulder.

I squirmed out of his reach and scooted away from him. “No. I came here for a serious talk.”

“Why? What’s the matter?” Bill didn’t seem to understand the seriousness of this. He was still aiming for my neck and ear.

I scooted again and pushed him away a little harder. “No, Bill. I came here for some serious business and not monkey business. Can you please listen?!”

The last four words came out a little forcefully from my mouth, and it was enough to get Bill’s attention. Good. He straightened up and he looked at me like a hawk searching for his prey.

“Alright,” he said rather icily.

“Thank you,” I replied. “You remember what we agreed upon when started sleeping together? That we will keep it chill, no strings attached, and when we want to have a serious relationship with other people, that we would just tell each other?”

Bill’s face hardened. Not a good sign. I was threading on thin ice.

“Well,” I started to euphemize my prepared speech, “for the past few months, I had the time of my life with you. You are fun to be with, both in the bed and out. I like you a lot, and you are a dear friend to me,” I said.

His face softened a bit, but I could tell we was still bracing for a much brutal beating.

“I care about you, Bill, and I want you to be happy,” I said. “But I don’t think our arrangement is working for me anymore.”

Bill wasn’t looking at me anymore. His gaze was fixated on his plain white walls.

“I’m 29 now Bill. If I want to have a family, I should start looking for something a little more serious. You see, I met this nice guy at the MET gala. His name is--“

“Stop. Don’t tell me his name. I don’t want to hear about it!” He raised his hands to silence me. His sudden outburst caught me off-guard, but I couldn’t say I was surprised. After all, this was the 5% that I was expecting.

“Bill,” I tried to calm him down. “We both agreed from the start that this ‘thing’ won’t be serious. Besides, you yourself told me you can’t imagine getting married and settling down.”

“But that’s not the point!” Bill cut me off angrily. “Don’t you think that I have a say in this? I mean, we met first. Shouldn’t you consult with me before running off with someone else?”

Wha---? Where the hell did that come from? My blood was beginning to boil but I tried to remain calm even though he obviously wasn’t.

“Don’t get me wrong, Bill. I expected that you would react strongly to my decision but I thought that at the end of the day, you will understand!” I didn’t realize that I stood up until I saw him looking at me from the couch. “And I think you are being hypocritical. I don’t mind your business with other people so you shouldn’t mine about mine either!”

 The look on Bill’s face told me that I did nothing to alleviate his anger. He remained silent for quite some time, and when she spoke again, his tone was more calculated and calm. “I suppose it’s bound to happen. This won’t come easy for us. After all, we spent so much time together that we must have developed some sort of emotional attachment. “

“Excuse me?! Did you hear yourself? Emotional attachment?! You fell asleep on my boobs when I was ranting about Claudia Gonzalez!” I was so indignant that I stomped my foot to get my point across.

 He looked like was about to say something but he was interrupted but my cellphone alarm. I picked the device from my pocket and I saw the reminder to take my birth control. I had started taking it when I began sleeping with Bill. Now that I was seeing someone else, I supposed I would continue using it. I let out a sigh of exasperation and walked to his kitchen to grab a glass of water. As I stood in the sink, I heard his footsteps crept closer and closer behind me. I knew what was going to happen, so I gripped the counter so hard for dear life. I felt his breath fan my neck, and his bare chest pressing against my back. His mouth was hovering above my earlobe again. Thank God he was behind me, or else he would have seen my tongue licking my lips. In our very own unspoken language, the licking of the lips meant an implicit “yes”.

“Do you really think anybody can make you scream the way I do?” he whispered so sexily in my ear, and my legs clenched on their own. My hips bucked on their own accord, and my backside felt the erection raging underneath the towel that covered his lower body. My insides pulsed for him, and my lady parts were literally dripping with anticipation.

His large hand reached for the waistband of my shorts, and the other found its way to my breasts. God, what was he doing to me? Is he even for real? Was I in heaven?

Of course, I knew I wasn’t. And before he could carry me to his bed, I pushed him away and escaped his tantalizing grasp.

“Stop it, Bill. I wasn’t complaining about the sex,” I folded my hands on my chest and closed my legs to show him that I meant business.

This time, it was Bill who let out an exasperated sigh. All along, he had been thinking that he could win me over with his charms and sexual magnetism, but his best weapons were useless against me (though I had to admit that he almost subdued me, if not for my willpower). He ran his palm over his face and folded his arms across his chest, leaning on the counter opposite me.

“Alright, you win,” Bill grumpily conceded. “Why do you want to stop sleeping with me? Are you afraid that I might have STDs because you thought I was sleeping with other women?” To be honest, even though I was a doctor, it never occurred to me that him sleeping with other women would put me at risk of contracting STD’s. Shame on me, though. I should have thought of it sooner, if only my brain wasn’t filled with dirty thoughts every time I was around him. Oh well. It already happened. I made a mental note of having myself tested first thing in the morning tomorrow.

“Well, I never thought that you had STDs,” I said pointedly.

“So why are you breaking up? Is this your way of telling me that you have STDs? So you know, even though it isn’t my fault, I am prepared to cover the expenses of your medication.”

Every word that came from his mouth was more offensive than the last. I felt my jaw drop in complete incredulity.

“I am going to pretend that I didn’t hear anything and ignore that you just said.”

“So I take that as a hard no,” Bill slumped in the counter.

I cleared my throat before speaking again. “Well, as I’ve said, I don’t want to fool around anymore. I want serious relationship. And judging by your behavior in the past, you don’t have the disposition or the temperament to be in one. Your childhood isn’t exactly a pretty one, and I am afraid that you won’t be a good husband or father—”

“That’s enough—” Bill cut me off. “This conversation is over.” He left the kitchen stomping his foot. I immediately felt guilty for the poor choice of words. Needless to say, I was too harsh on him, but I couldn’t think of any other way to get my point across. I wanted to apologize, but knowing him, I was certain that my words would fall on deaf ears. From inside the kitchen, I heard him open the door of his apartment, and I took it as a sign that I should see myself out.

When I reached the door, I found him waiting for me there. I let out one last sigh before I spoke. “I’m sorry, Bill,” I said, “I shouldn’t have brought that up. Listen, I was hoping that we good be in good terms after this, but I guess that’s not possible. I’m sorry that we have to end it like this. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Bill gave me neither a headshake or a nod. His eyes only looked at mine, and it was his way of telling me that he heard me.

“Bye.” I tried to look back again, but he refused to make eye contact. I left his apartment disappointed. I didn’t want to be in his bad side, but, I knew that it was unfair for him not to hear me out. I deserved that respect for him. As I was standing in the elevator on the way down, I looked back to the day I first met Bill.

Actually, it wasn’t a day. It was a night. I was attending my friend Nikki’s bridal shower. Nikki was a resident in NY Presbyterian where I am currently working. I was an intern back then and now I am a resident pedia-cardiologist. Nikki’s friends from childhood and med school were there, as well as some of us in the hospital. Anita, Laura and I were Nikki’s closest friends from work.

Shelby, Nikki’s childhood friend and maid-of-honor, rented the entire Cassini Bar for the event. There were at least fifty guests at the shower. The party had everything a perfect bridal shower needed – booze, penis hats, penis chocolates, sex-themed games – everything. Hell, Shelby and the other bridesmaids even hired **two** strippers!

Of course, every one of us – that is, Anita, Laura and I – were eager to have a go at the stripper. We rarely do one-night stands but heck, the stripper was for free and we can milk him for all he’s worth (no pun intended! Hahahaha). Of course, Nikki was given a stripper for herself, and we were left to “share” the other stripper. First, it was Laura who gave it a go. She didn’t take off her pants, but there was some serious humping going on between her and the stripper. I would be lying if I didn’t get aroused watching them. I tried to appear modest and crossed my legs, but deep inside, my libido was raging. I tried to calm down, telling myself that I will have my turn soon.

One of Nikki’s friends from med school followed Laura, who was deeply flushed. Anita and I gave a congratulatory high five and she went back to her seat next to time. The three of us were watching the woman go down on the stripper, and my mouth couldn’t help but water.

I was so engrossed over the scene in front of me that I didn’t realize that someone was watching me from afar. It was Anita, the ever-reliable sleuth, who brought it to my attention. A handsome, dark-haired man was watching me intently, with a sexy-as-hell smirk plastered on his face. I met his gaze, and to be honest, I was kinda embarrassed to be seen watching live porn by this cute guy. I let out a small, shy giggle to his direction, and I saw him bite his lip. Mmmm-hmmm. He looked yummier than the stripper. I winked at him, and I saw him smile grow wider. Damn. Maybe I was having a lucky night. But I felt a little for doing monkey business when I was supposed to be celebrating Nikki’s impending marriage.

“Go for it, girl,” Laura whispered behind my ear. “Seek happy nights to happy days.”

“Who are you, the nurse from Romeo and Juliet?!” I laughed at her lame attempt to get me to follow the cute mysterious guy.

“Yes, she is,” Anita butted in, “and right now, you should be in your bed chamber hollering ‘Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romero?’ at that guy who is so ready to climb your vines.”

I blushed as I looked towards the cute guy again. He too was smiling, and I could tell that we were thinking the same the thing.

Pretending to be like a prim and proper lady, I tucked my hair behind my ear and asked to be “excused” to go to the bathroom. Laura and Anita winked at me and wished me luck. Thankfully, everybody was fixated on the strippers and no one noticed that the guy quietly slipped into the ladies’ room. I followed him there. Once inside, I locked the door and threw him a lusty look.

“Oops, sorry. I must have entered the wrong bathroom,” he smirked at me, closing our distance.

“Are you sorry at all?” I teased “Or this is exactly your destination?” 

“You have no idea where my true destination is.”

Damn, his voice was so smooth and sexy, and it had a Southern accent to it. Damn, just the sound of his voice was enough to make me dripping wet, and it was so even before he started nibbling my earlobe and probing my neck, the two most sensitive parts of my body, apart from my clit of course. Fuck, he was oh so good. In no time, I was moaning and gasping, and he haven’t even touched my breasts yet.

I really thought that he was going to do it slow. First base, the second base then third. But apparently, he had other things in minds. And he was trailing kisses down my jaw, I felt his hands tug the waistband of my pants, and his large palm dipped into my panties, cupping my juicy mound. I took in a sharp intake of breath, surprised by his boldness. I liked it nevertheless. Of course, I didn’t need too much coaxing as I am already wet from watching the strippers. Without another word, a slipped a finger inside me, and I almost melted in his arms.

His thumb was circling on by hard nub as he fucked me with his long digits. Oh fuck. I’ve never been finger fucked this good. Maybe because his hand was gigantic. Oh God. I could only imagine that it was his cock inside of me. I swear I could come so soon. Fuck. He felt so good. My hips thrusted against his fingers, bucking hard against him. In time, he picked up the pace, and my thrusting followed. I almost had the urge to scream, if only there weren’t fifty people outside. Thank goodness nobody was knocking to enter the bathroom, or I swear I would have killed that person for cockblocking me.

In record time, my muscles clenched against his fingers, and I exploded like a firework in New Year’s Eve. My nails dug deep into his arms and I arched my back in complete ecstasy. I could feel my toes curl inside the stilettos that I was wearing. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but nothing could beat the earth-shattering orgasm I just had, thanks to his very skillful fingers.

When I came down from my euphoric high, I noticed something else was high, and was almost poking from his pants. The ladies room wasn’t the best place to alleviate his rage, so we quietly slipped out of the bar and went straight to his apartment.

I found out after three rounds of sex that night that he was the owner of the Cassini Bar, and he had taken an interest in me when he saw me enter his establishment with my friends. He used to be a lawyer, but he quit his day job and decided to open his own business. He didn’t want to be confined to the corporate world, so he ventured into entrepreneurship and built this bar.

I have to admit, while I was very fond of our first meeting, I was kinda embarrassed about it. It wasn’t something I could tell my friends (aside from Laura, Anita and Nikki), and certainly not to my parents and family. But with my life with Bill over, it could finally leave this all behind. Nobody had to know about Bill, or the sneaky things we did. I was ready to make a fresh start with Gerry, the investment banker I met in, well, the MET gala.

Still, though, I wish Bill and I could have remained friends. I regretted hurting his feelings. I really did. But I knew I had done the right thing considering my own desires and expectations about relationships.

I walked out the door of Bill’s apartment complex and headed toward the subway. I tried to dismiss a nagging feeling in the back of my mind. Was it merely guilt for hurting Bill, which was unfortunate but acceptable in the grand scheme of things, or was it something more?

Urgh. I need to pull myself together. Besides, tomorrow, I would be spending the day with Gerry, and I had been looking forward to it in weeks. With Bill out of the picture, I wouldn’t have any guilt in dating him.

As I would find out later, that was something easier said than done.


	2. Gerry Roth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance. Bill isn't here. But hey, more Hillary!

Three days after I ended things with Bill, I was woken up by a string of text messages from my cell phone. I glanced at the screen. It was 2 am, and Bill apparently had been drinking:

_So many girls wanna fuck me tonight_

I let out a deep sigh. Bill handled this breakup thing worse than I expected, and I was feeling guilty for it. On the other hand, my decision to end things with him was turning to be a wise one, as he clearly couldn’t handle issues like this. To be honest, I thought his manly pride would prevent him from contacting me, especially this way, but apparently, I had been wrong on that part too.

In danger of being scolded by my superior for not responding to on-call emergencies, I turned my phone off and tossed at the foot of my bed.

The following night, the same thing happened. I received another text from Bill, like the one he sent last night:

_Don’t come to me if he can’t make you cum_

I rubbed my eyes to see if they were failing me. Nope. I wasn’t dreaming, nor my eyes were turning bad. Another vulgar text from Bill. Did he really think that making me jealous or horny would make me come back to him? Urgh. Why was he such an insufferable ass?! My guilt from last night was slowly turning into annoyance. If he wouldn’t stop texting me in the middle of the night, then I would have no choice but to block his number. (and FYI, I didn’t need to block him from Facebook because we weren’t friends in the first place.) Once again, I turned my phone off and went back to bed.

Several hours later, I was due to meet with Gerry. He was a 31-yr old investment banker at Wells Fargo, and we met at the MET gala (nope, I am not making this up). The parents of one of my patients gave me and Anita, the attending pulmonologist, some tickets to the MET gala, as they were regular donors to the museum. Of course, we have been dreaming our whole lives to attend the MET gala and finally, some wealthy couple was generous enough to give us VIP tickets! Anita and I were so excited that we blew half of your monthly salary just for the dresses we were going to wear for the gala. 

Anita bought an elegant red ensemble from Elie Saab, while I chose a simple white Oscar Dela Renta gown, like [what Miss Universe 2003 Oxana Fedorova wore in the pageant](https://i1.wp.com/thegreatpageantcommunity.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/oxana.jpg?resize=500%2C730), but a little more body-hugging. The tube-shaped bodice wrapped my curves very well and the skirt was flowing freely to the floor. Matching the dress was a white trench coat-like suit in case the wearer felt cold. Since I didn’t have too many sequins or lace in my gown, it cost relatively less than the other Dela Renta creations, and I still had money to feed myself for the rest of the month.

After a week of sleepless nights (well, not really. I forced myself with sleeping pills so that I wouldn’t develop last minute eyebags), the night of the MET gala finally arrived, and Anita and I were like trash on the red carpet. We saw so many stars! Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Rihanna, Selena Gomez, the Kardashians (don’t judge), and my all-time celebrity crush – George Clooney! Too bad he was with Amal, but I have to admit that she was such a stunner, and her eyebrows were on fleek. Oh well. In another time, in another life, I would be Mrs. Hillary Rodham Clooney.

Because Anita and I weren’t stars, we weren’t required to stop in front of the cameras and pose. But still, that didn’t stop us from strutting our stuff at the red carpet. We didn’t burn thousands of dollars for fancy drinks that we could buy for half the price at eBay. For the next few hours, we were going to be stars.

As we were snapping each other’s photos on the red carpet, my eye caught the sight of a handsome guy who was talking to Serena Williams. Damn, he was straight up gorgeous in that tuxedo. Unlike the celebrity attendees, he didn’t bother spicing up his tux. He went old school, and it suited him very well (haha! Pun intended).  From my peripheral vision, I saw him left the red carpet and went inside the museum. What a bummer. I wanted to stalk him just a little bit more, but I was busy focusing my camera on Anita. Oh well.

After we exhausted every pose possible (and the media people starting to give curious looks at us), we finally decided to enter the museum. The second we stepped foot inside, my jaw dropped. The museum, as wonderful it was during regular days, was spectacular that night. There were music and merriment all over the place. Anita and I were living in our dreams. Though we don’t know anyone inside (except the couple who gave us the tickets, of course), everyone was so friendly and keen to have a good time. We were too. We grabbed whatever alcohol that was present (I was impartial to chardonnay, of course).

Of course, this was a party in NYC. As with every party in this city, someone (or something) was bound to mess up, and I was the unlucky one to be the recipient of that mess. Literally. A guy who had been partying too hard bumped into me and spilled his wine and barked all over me. Yep. All over my pristine white Oscar Dela Renta gown. I was half infuriated and half embarrassed. People were looking at me from all directions. I was pretty sure someone was snapping photos or recording a video of me wearing a stained dress. The guy who got his barf all over me even had the nerve to hit on me. Anita ran off to call the security. I was left alone to fend off for myself.

“Excuse me, Sir, go away,” I pushed the drunk guy away from me as if my dress didn’t smell like dog poop. “

“Heya, baby,” the man slurred. He held up a key and reached for the pocket of my coat, “See ya.”

Urgh. That was so disgusting. I gingerly took the key from my pocket and tried to give it back.  While I was struggling to pull the bastard up, I could feel his hand traveling down my ass. If only I wouldn’t embarrass myself further, I would have dropped him on the floor and let him swim in his own puke. It would serve him right, though. But alas, I was in the middle of the most high-profile event in New York. I wasn’t about to make a giant mess from what already was a giant mess.

Suddenly, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I looked around and to my horror, I saw the face of that cute guy I saw earlier. Oh. My. God. Never in my life I wanted to evaporate more. Laden in puke and carrying a drunk man in my arms, Cute Guy arrived at the worst possible time. And Anita wasn’t even here to share the humiliation.

Cute Guy walked in front of me and pulled the drunk bastard away. I instinctively covered myself with my arms. I hung my head low so that nobody could take pictures of me. Within seconds, Cute Guy was gone with the bastard, and Anita with some museum staff led me to the private bathrooms so that I could wash up.

Thank God the staff members very accommodating. They had soap and paper towels to clean me up. But there was the matter of the dress. I couldn’t just call an Uber and pretend like nothing had happened. This was NYC. Somebody would surely snap a photo and email it to Buzzfeed. Within minutes, friends and coworkers would surely text me about this article with the headline:  ** _This woman had the worst MET Gala experience in history._**

No, I would not be going home like this. Anita volunteered to go out and pick up a dress for me, to which I was incredibly grateful. The staff ****let me stay in the offices by myself. They even brought food for me. Bless them. When they had ascertained that I was okay, they bid me goodbye to make sure the gala ran smoothly.

When I was alone, I spent my time browsing through my Facebook feed. I took a deep sigh. With my disastrous photo now being circulated online, I couldn’t just post my red-carpet photos, no matter how badly I wanted to. My mom left me a message asking if I was having a good time, but I was too pissed and depressed to respond. I simply switched over to YouTube to watch snuggly cat videos to cheer myself up.

A few minutes later, I heard the door squeak open. I thought that it was Anita. Without looking at the person behind the door, I stood up and walked towards the ajar doorway. To my surprise, it wasn’t Anita who had opened the door. It was Cute Guy. He looked a little embarrassed as he was holding a clean cotton towel.

“Hi. I thought you could use some towels,” he said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thanks,” I said. My lips were smiling on their own, and for some reason, I couldn’t control them. I wanted to kick myself for being a total fool in front of Cute Guy.

Cute Guy handed me the towel, and I wrapped it all over myself. Thank goodness it covered the stain on my dress. I gave Cute Guy my thanks, and he smiled back. Neither of us spoke afterward. We just stood right there, looking at each other like teenage idiots. The awkwardness was palpable, and finally, it was me who broke the ice.

“You’re here with someone?” Oh God. Wrong question. MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

Cute Guy chuckled at my awkward question. "As a matter of fact, I have. She's downstairs."

"I see." I prayed that I didn't sound too disappointed, but I myself was unconvinced. I decided to shift the conversation before I made a bigger fool of myself. I held out my clean hand to him and introduced myself. "My name is Hillary."

"Nice to meet you, Hillary. My name is Gerry." Gerry shook my hand and he seemed sincerely pleased to meet me. He beamed at me like he was the sun. "What do you do?"

Okay, Hillary. Calm down. He probably thought you were a complete idiot behind that electric smile. I took a deep breath because my constricting lungs reminded me that I wasn't breathing for the past ten seconds, and replied, "I am a pediacardio at NY Presbyterian. You?"

Gerry blinked twice. "Wow. Resident? You seem quite young."

"I am actually 53. Dr. Miami is amazing. Would you like his number?" I said. I wanted to give myself a high five for that amazing recovery.

Gerry chuckled again. "I better send him flowers. And the send his number to moms who wanted to join The Bachelor."

"Damn, you caught me. How did you know? My two adult children are actually getting married next month." Damn, a conversation with Gerry was too easy. 

"I am secretly a psychic. I actually predicted that someone would be puked on and almost groped tonight so I brought a towel," he winked at me. Be still, my overly excited heart! I giggled at his snarky remark, and I swore I saw the faintest hint of a blush in his cheeks.

"So, where is your friend?" he asked.

"Oh, she's out. She went shopping for a dress for me. I can't just go outside in this state, can I?"

"Well, we can save your friend the trouble if you let me drive you home?"

Oh. My. God. Could my night get any better?

"Well, I guess so," was my muted response. But deep inside, I was HECK YEAH! I took out my phone

to shoot Anita a short text message saying that Gerry would be taking me home. When I opened my phone, I saw that Bill sent me a text.  ** _Stay with me after the gala?_** Oh dear. Not now. I lowered my phone so that Gerry couldn't see what I was doing and I replied "Sorry. Bad timing. Somebody just puked all over me."

When I finished texting Anita, I told Gerry that I was ready to go. But then I suddenly realized that he didn't come to the gala alone.

"Hey, wait a minute. Aren't you with someone tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah. And right now, she's probably inside an Uber. She has an appointment with her endocrinologist at your hospital tomorrow."

I scrunched my forehead. "What?"

He chuckled again. "I was with my Mom. She had to leave the gala early because of her appointment."

My eyes widened in sudden realization. Relief flooded all over my body. "I see! I thought you were with...I don't know...a girlfriend?"

"Oh! She...she broke my heart."

"Oh?" Shit. What the fuck did I just say?"

"She fucked her nephew. Can you imagine?"

She...fucked...her...nephew? Oh God. In incest even legal in New York? What kind of sick fuck is that woman?! Does that mean his girlfriend was old as fuck? Or worse, a pedophile? Jesus. My insides were turning upside down. What kind of person in a civilized society would resort to incest?!

Unless...

"You were referring to Denaerys Targaryen, weren't you?"

Gerry smiled. "I knew you would catch on. I am probably one of the people who isn't rooting for Jonerys. I was devastated at the season finale of Game of Thrones. Dany is mine and mine alone!"

Ha! I knew it! I landed a jackpot with Gerry!

Gerry led me to the parking lot of the museum, where not many people could see my disgrace.  I was so thrilled that I get to ride home with him. The drive towards my apartment was met with a traffic jam in every corner we took, but I didn't mind one bit. In fact, I wished that the traffic would go on and on like whenever the UN General Assembly holds its meeting.

In the middle of my flirtation with Gerry, I felt my phone vibrate. It was Bill yet again:  ** _I am so hard just thinking about you._** Somehow, I felt mildly aroused but I shoved any thought of him at the back of my mind. I removed the vibrating alert from my phone and put my attention back to Gerry.

When we arrived at my apartment building, I told Gerry not to bother parking as I didn't want him a hard time looking for a parking slot. I could tell that he was disappointed that I was about to go. Well, he wasn't alone. All he could say was, "I hope I'll see you tomorrow."

Tomorrow? Why tomor-- OH YEAH! His mom was supposed to go to NY Presbyterian!

"Sure!" Yay! My life was great again! And to be sure that he was going to see me, I opened my purse and handed him my calling card. "Dr. Hillary Rodham. Pediatric Cardiology. Room 3402."

Gerry read the card and smiled. "Alright. I'll bring a sick child for you to look at."

"I can see adults too you know," I replied, hoping he got my hint. "Just because that my specialization is children doesn't mean I can't see grown-ups."

Gerry winked. "Alright then. Then I hope I'll catch a cold tomorrow."

"Oh don't. Seriously," I said.

With that, I planted a light kiss on his cheek and thanked him for an awesome evening. I went inside my apartment building and gave him one last glimpse before I closed the door. It was nighttime, and the moon was glowing brightly, but I was sure we were both radiating brighter than the sun.

It had been two weeks since I first met Gerry. It was hard to not like the guy, to be honest. The next day, when his mom supposed to visit the hospital, Gerry dropped by my clinic and left a bunch of white roses. The scene in the clinic didn't escape the eagle-eyed doctors and staff and we quickly became an item. We were given the couple name "Gillary". As much as I was thrilled to be rooted for by my colleagues, I tried to discourage them from openly gawking at us. We were just new, and I didn't want to hype our budding romance in case we ended abruptly. I hope that would not happen, though.

As for Bill, I tried to check on him occasionally, but he wasn't answering any of my texts and calls. Urgh. I was getting more annoyed with him, because he was being such a baby, and because he was guilt-tripping me for what I had done. The latter was not a fluke, though. I did feel guilty for dumping him that way. Perhaps it was more than guilt.

Hurt, maybe?

For some reason, his withdrawal was having an effect on me that was beyond guilt. At some days, I found myself  _missing_  him. Don't me wrong. I like Gerry, but there were some things that only Bill and I could understand. Like how for example, whenever I thought or see something not G-rated, my first impulse was to call Bill. But then, while I was already in the middle of my text message to Bill, I would remember that we weren't speaking, and then my chest would clench a bit. It happened constantly, and it only got worse in time. As a "remedy", I would type those messages on my phone and keep it in the drafts. I thought that my communication with Bill was just a force of habit. It would take some time for me to get used to the absence. 

The subject of my confused feelings between Gerry and Bill was this week's topic of Gossip Tuesday with Anita, Laura, and Nikki. We were hanging out at the coffee shop in front of the hospital after our shifts ended. Gossip Night had been a sacred ritual for us. Every Tuesday morning at the end of our shifts, we would meet at the same coffee shop to talk about anything, but most importantly, juicy bites about other people's lives. This week, I was the "other people".

"So, Bill had been drunk texting you," Nikki said as she took a sip of her pumpkin spice latte. "What is he, your asshole ex-boyfriend or something?"

"He ain't my boyfriend but he is an asshole," I said. "He is getting on my nerves. He's such a baby."

"Baby, or Babe?" Anita teased.

I couldn't roll my eyes hard enough. "Babe as in the pig?"

"That's harsh, girl," said Laura.

"Fine. I might have been too hard on him. But can't he, like, be happy for me? He did say when first started sleeping that if ever we want to see other people, one of us should say so. Well, I want to see Gerry. Did I do something wrong here?"  I said defensively.

"I am interested when Bill asked you if you think he had a say in this-" mused Nikki.

"Oh boy. You better not charge Hillary a thousand bucks an hour for this," Laura cut Nikki off.

"Oh, shut up," Nikki shot back. "Anyway. So, Hillary. Don't you think you should have asked him whether he was okay with this or not? I myself was surprised that you didn't?"

"Why the hell is that?" I was rather forceful with my question, and the girls were looking at me as if I was a monster.

Nikki straightened herself after my brutal remark. "Well, I thought he was kinda growing attached to you. I mean, aren’t you his go-to person, judging by his average of 15-20 text messages per day?"

“I bet he has other go-to persons,” I bit my lip, trying to hide the remnants of my growing guilt.

“Can you think of anyone else he would confide to?” asked Laura. 

I bowed my head and shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. He doesn’t mention his family often. He doesn’t have any close male friend. Or at least that’s what I can deduce.”

“How about a female friend?” Nikki was interested to know.

“I think that would be me.”

“Well, I think you have your answer,” said Nikki with a great deal of satisfaction. “You are the closest friend he has and you suddenly leave him alone by himself. It’s normal that he would be upset like that.”

“But I told him we can be friends!”

“I know, I know,” Nikki said sympathetically, “but I think he took it in such a way that you don’t want anything to do with him. You did dump him hard. He didn’t even know that you were dating other men while you were sleeping with him. I know that what you have between yourselves was only sex but he still deserves the respect you afford to a boyfriend, Hillary. He may only be a sexual partner, but a partner nevertheless. You should have told him that you planned to date Gerry and I am sure he would have been more understanding. He deserves that respect, girl. And now, what he deserves is closure. I am sure that he will be able to cope properly with the fallout of your sexual relationship once you give him that.”

I took a deep sigh. Nikki’s right. I was pretty harsh on him. And I should have told him that I wanted to date Gerry. I just wasn’t forthcoming about his feelings. I should have realized early on that he saw me more than a sexual partner but as a trusted friend and confidante. Another deep sigh. I guess I would have to talk to him for closure at some point. Or as soon as he responds to my text messages.

As our conversation drifted to another topic, I took out my phone and secretly sent Bill a text message.

**_Hey, can we talk?_ **


	3. The Naked Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~It's Mueller Time!~~
> 
> Thanks so much guys for the love you gave to the companion fic, [The Legend of BOB](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12508008/chapters/28477968). BOB won't appear in this chapter just yet. But it will be worth it!

I was panting when I reached the door of my apartment, carrying two bags of groceries all the way up to the seventh floor. I had to go grocery shopping after my shift ended because Gerry would be coming over. Earlier at lunch, Gerry dropped by at the hospital and brought my favorite gyro and falafel from that delicious halal food cart at 53rd Street. He even brought an extra serving of that fiery-as-fuck hot sauce which I would trade my organs for. The hospital staff finally met Gerry, and needless to say, they were so much more smitten with him that I was. However, I couldn’t tell if they were smitten because they thought he was perfect for me, or they wanted him for themselves (and yes, that included the straight men).

As we were eating lunch, Gerry was vaguely hinting that he didn’t have anything to do tonight. And so, I went for it. I casually dropped that I wasn’t doing anything else either (which was true) so he asked me if I wanted to go out. I told him I wanted to see him tonight, but I didn’t want to go out. Thankfully, the cleaning lady was due to come to my apartment this afternoon, so I volunteered my apartment to host out date tonight. He happily agreed to come, and I took it as a positive sign that something might finally happen tonight.

And so, I hurried to the supermarket to shop for some food and necessities. I didn’t have much time to cook so I would just have to call the nearby Chinese fast food for some of their rice boxes, though I did buy a ton of popcorn, sodas and chips for  Netflix. As for the “chill” part, I bought a box of condoms, just to be safe (Bill never bothered to use a condom because he knew I was using birth control).

When I reached my apartment, I could hear the vacuum loudly humming on the other side of the door. I figured that the cleaning lady must still be inside, and she had had a hard time with the carpet again, as she was usually gone before I arrived home. I usually didn’t mind her, but at that time, I would have appreciated it if she wrapped up her vacuuming quickly since I need to prep for my date with Gerry.

Because I was carrying two large bags of groceries, I didn’t immediately notice that the person cleaning my apartment wasn’t my cleaning lady. I even dropped my house keys when I entered, so I had to kneel down and pick it up. When I was finally back on my feet, it wasn’t my cleaning lady who I saw. Nope. Instead, it was Bill in his full naked glory, his cock standing proudly in my direction. He was practically smoldering as he pushed and pulled the vacuum against my carpet.

My mind went completely blank and my feet were rooted on the spot. I…I was at loss for words. I didn’t know whether I wanted to 1) throw him out unceremoniously, naked and hard and all, or 2) to panic because Gerry might catch Bill in that state and he would think I was cheating on him, or 3)  to fuck Bill senseless. Generally, I was confused. And aroused. Definitely aroused. Whatever I was feeling at that moment, I was pretty sure it was ten times above the normal range, and I was no way capable of making a rational decision.

My arms were beginning to feel the weight of the groceries, so I hurried to the kitchen to drop them off. When I came back to the living room, Bill had already shut the vacuum off and he was wrapping his arms around me and letting me know how hard he was for me. Damn it. He knew how easily I become wet for him so he must have staged this - whatever this was - in an attempt to seduce me and probably get me back to his sheets.

I wanted to get away from him and to throw him out immediately (because that was the rational thing to do) but damn, I was so wet for him. I was so entranced that I didn’t even fight back when he went for my neck.

 “Oh, Bill,” I moaned.

“That’s it, Baby. Does it feel good?” he coaxed.

Hell yeah. It felt so fucking good. I could feel my insides clenching with anticipation as he lips traveled from my neck, up to my jaw and finally into my mouth, where his tongue found home. He was kissing me hard. There was no hint of tenderness to it. He was having it rough, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I could tell that he was liking my roughness too, because I could feel his cock twitching in my belly. Urgh. I missed that feeling of having a man crave for me like that. As I was kissing him, I wondered whether Gerry could be all over me the same way Bill did.

_Oh fuck. Gerry!_

No, Gerry was not knocking on my door, but I had almost forgotten that he would be coming over. Damn you Bill and your animal magnetism. But feral attractions aside, I should not be doing this! And I should not have kissed him! My wreckless actions only made it harder for him to move past us, and I felt guilty for it. I could see the hurt in his eyes when I pushed him away. I thought at that moment, he understood what my gesture meant.

“Let me just pick up my clothes from your bedroom” he sounded defeated.

Oh fuck. I didn’t realize it would hurt this much seeing him so down like that. I followed him to my bedroom and helped him fix himself.

“I am so sorry, I really am. I should not have done that. I just made things worse for you,” I said as I handed him his pants. Every word that came out of my lips was the truth.

“No. My mistake. I shouldn’t have come here,” he mumbled, his eyes on the floor. He had never been so unsure of himself, and my heart ached seeing it. When we were together, I used to tease him how huge his ego was. But at that moment, I thought I had punctured his ego beyond repair.

“No, no, no,no. It’s my fault, not yours,” I said, leaning down to catch his eyes. “I treated you like trash. After all we’ve been through, you deserve better from me. We may not have been lovers, you still need a closure. And you deserve that from me, and me alone.”

Bill didn’t answer, and the clamp around my heart tightened.

“I should have told you that I wanted to date Gerry-“

The mention of Gerry’s name brought the bright red color to his face. I saw it as a warning sign, Nevertheless, I pressed on.

“You’re right. You have a say in our relationship. After all, you are in it. I thought you would be okay with me breaking us off without so much issue, that’s why I didn’t tell you until the last minute. I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sorry.”

When I was done with my monologue, Bill had also finished dressing up. I couldn’t help but notice the bulge that remained hanging in his pants.

“Bill, would you like to get off first before you leave my apartment?” I asked awkwardly. “People might see you and-“

“People making fun of me is the least of my worries today,” he cut me off.

He grabbed his bag from my bed and left me alone. His cold treatment was hurting me more than I thought it would. I followed him to the living room, where I found him opening my front door.

“Hey,” I called him back. He looked at me with the same defeated look he gave me when I pushed him away earlier. I tried to speak, but somehow, my sound came out of my throat.

“Do you need something?” he asked me.

“I-I…” I finally found my voice, but it was my brain that malfunctioned this time. For some reason, my mouth spoke on its own. “The key?”

“What?” Bill seemed confused. He looked like he thought I finally lost it.

“The key. I need my key back. You must still have it?”

“Oh.”

Bill scrambled to find my keys in his pocket. Back when we were still sleeping together, we exchanged keys so that we could visit each other whenever we wanted to. When I broke up with him, things went so badly that I had forgotten to take back mine and return his. As he looked for my keys, I dashed back to my bedroom to grad his key, and when I returned, he was already holding my key.

“Here you go,” he handed me my key.

“And here’s yours,” I returned his key to him.

As we exchanged keys, it felt like I was handing him back all the memories that we have shared. “Thank you for the sex and the memories. See you around!” It…it wasn’t just like that. Even though it was me who initiated all of this, it didn’t occur to me that I would be saying goodbye to him, especially this way. When I thought of ending our friends with benefits arrangement to date Gerry, I had always thought that we would still chat, text each other occasionally or even go out for drinks, just the two of us. I really thought that this process would be painless for both of us, but like my decision to end things with Bill abruptly, I was wrong.

I knew I had said before that we didn’t have an emotional connection. Well, I was wrong on that too. Perhaps, we did develop a connection. After all, Nikki was right. I was his go-to person. And as much as I hated to admit it, he was mine. I could tell him things I couldn’t tell my closest friends, and those things weren’t even X-rated.

“Thanks,” he replied as he pocketed his key.

“Thank you too. I hope I’ll see you around,” I said guiltily.

He didn’t say goodbye when we walked through the door. But instead, he gave me a look that said, “There’s nothing I can do, isn’t there?” Truth be told, there was nothing he could do, because it was all my fault. I was a shitty friend, and no matter how big a jackass he was when we were still sleeping together, what I did was bitchy and I deserved to burn in hell for it.

When I closed the door, I tried to justify my actions to myself. Or at least, some of it. For one, I knew it was the right decision to date Gerry. As attractive as Bill was, he didn’t seem to be the type of guy who would settle down and have children. And Gerry was Bill’s complete opposite. Gerry was a good guy. He loved his Mom. He babysat his nieces. And Bill? I didn’t even hear the slightest mention of his family during the months that we were sleeping.

But still, I was pretty sure Bill would not dump me this way if he had seen another woman.

Under normal circumstances, I would have cried right now. But somehow, the tears wouldn’t fall. I was thankful, though. I didn’t have to deal with the dark trail of mascara on my face. But still, I was in no shape to see Gerry. I wanted to be alone tonight. I felt I needed some time to properly grieve for Bill. I took my phone out and sent out a quick text to Gerry: **Sorry, my brother called and he wants to have dinner. I’ll make it up to you, promise!**

Gerry was such a sweetheart, but now was not the time to think of him. Maybe tomorrow. That short encounter with Bill left me drained and exhausted, so I immediately went to the bathroom for a nice hot shower. I fucking needed one. If anything could cheer me up without fail, it was a hot shower. As I stepped inside the shower, the memories of my countless showers with Bill sprang in my mind. I did love kissing him under the sprays of hot water. My palms splaying on the broad planes of of her chest, his hands

massaging my head with shampoo. Sometimes, my hand would think for itself and sneakily grab his half-hard cock, and he would grunt in mixture of pleasure and surprise. Fuck. My thoughts were making me more wet, and the water had nothing to do with it. Once I had washed and rinsed, I felt a little better, but the raging need in my pussy had not yet been alleviated. Bill's kisses and my thoughts caused a crack in my resolve. I probably shouldn't do this, but I was going to anyway. I took the showe rhead from its mount and increased the pressure of the water a bit. I lowered the heat of the water so that I would not get burned. I opened my legs and exposed my swollen clit to the running water. The gentle pressure of the water tingled my bundle of nerves, and it felt so good, just like how Bill's tongue would softly lap on it and swirl his tongue all around like licking a lollipop. Oooohhhhhhh. I swore I felt myself harden under the running water.

  
"Yes...that's it Bill....lick me...flick your tongue in my clit…"

As I was moaning his name, my free hand did its job. My middle finger touched the tip of my engorged clit, and suddenly my insides were on fire. My fingers were moving slowly up and down my pussy lips, just barely outside my entrance. Bill would do the same for me, teasing his long, slender digits around my slit but never pushing them inside, and it was a sweet torture for me.

“Oh God, Bill…please be inside me,” I whimpered, talking to no one.

I couldn’t take the teasing anymore, so I buried my middle finger inside my pussy, and I pulled the rest of my hand up against my clit. Fuck. It felt good. So good. I was finger fucking myself inside my bathroom while moaning my ex-fuck buddy’s name. It sounded so weird but I didn’t care. I needed to the release this tension that had slowly been brewing inside me since Bill teased me with that tantalizing kiss.

I pushed a second finger inside and twisted it, and I melted like hot lava. Unable to control myself, I rode my fingers as they pushed and pulled inside me. As I was seeking for release, my vocabulary seemed to have been diminished to one word: Bill. His name was all I could say, and it rolled so sexily in my tongue. In time, the tingling intensified. My belly sank deeper and I could feel my insides clench. My fucking and bucking became harder and faster. My breaths became shallower and my cries crescendoed. My orgasm saw my knees almost buckle as I came hard around my fingers. My inner walls tensed over and over, my juices slicking my hands and mixing with the flow of hot water.

I was panting and panting as I let my orgasm ebb. Fuck. That felt really, really good. I was very much satisfied, and I effectively got rid of the pent-up tension in my body, thanks to my handiwork. That, however, did not soothe the pain in my heart. As I stood in my shower, with my back against the cold wall, I wondered if Bill tried to ease his pain this way too. After all, he had left my apartment with a raging hard-on, and knowing him, he would let his needs go by unattended. But then again, he didn’t do so when I gave him a chance to do it earlier.

Fuck. I really messed this up, didn’t I?

* * *

The next day saw me moping around in the hospital, and it affected my performance. I was irritable, and I kept forgetting things. The nurses were having a hard time keeping up with me. Poor fellows. I would have to apologize to them properly when I am better.

Anita noticed that I had not been myself lately. When we were hanging out at the nurses’ station, chugging our cheap vending machine coffee, she didn’t waste time hashing out the sudden change in my mood.

“Okay girl, spill. You were pretty much floating yesterday when you invited Gerry over to your house. Now, you looked like you’ve buried someone. What happened?” Anita raised her eyebrow.

I sighed. “Bill surprised me yesterday. He was vacuuming my carpet naked and with a raging erection.”

“And you are upset with that? Girl, I am disappointed in you.”

“No, no, no. It’s not that. We made out-“

Anita’s eyes became wide and her mouth was in a perfect O. “Oh, giiiiiiirl….”

“And then I pulled away. I realized that I had fucked him badly.”

“Judging by your stories, I don’t think there was ever a bad fuck between you two.”

“Oh shut up, Anita!” I said irritably. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Alright, alright.” Anita’s tone shifted. I went on to tell her everything that had transpired yesterday, even my sad/angsty masturbation in the shower (I had to lower my voice because I noticed that the other nurses were listening.)

“Damn,” was the only thing she could say. “Damn.”

“I know, right?”

Anita let out a deep sigh of exasperation. “Girl, what a mess you created.”

“I know.”

“And does Gerry know about this?”

I shook my head. “No. And I don’t plan on telling him. Bill and I are over. He doesn’t need to be caught up in my private, embarrassing affairs.”

“You do realize that’s a perfect recipe for a disaster, right? Especially if he finds out about Bill.” I noticed that her eyebrow was raised pretty high.

“Well, that’s my problem, not Gerry’s,” I tried to shrug it off. “But promise, I just need to get over myself and fix things with Bill. Then we can be friends again.”

“You sound too optimistic, girl,” Anita shook her head. “It might be harder to get rid of Bill than you thought it would.”

“He isn’t a murderous madman, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“No, no, no. But, haven’t you considered maybe he genuinely fell in love with you, and that’s why he is having a hard time moving on? Well, aside from the fact that you messed up your break up…”

My forehead suddenly felt cold. Fuck. I hadn’t considered that idea.

_Wait…Bill fell for me? Is that even real?_

Oh, no, no. Here I was again. I could not let myself be carried away with that stupid notion that Bill fell in love with me. For the nth time, I told myself that he was in no way fit to become my husband or the father of my children. And sheesh, I already had a perfectly fine man whom, hopefully, I could spend the rest of my life with, and that man went by the name of Gerard Philip Roth.

“Of course not,” I pretended to be completely unaffected by what Anita just said, but I didn’t find myself too convincing. “I have Gerry. You know how I have the hots for him, and vice versa.”

“Yeah, sure,” Anita didn’t believe a word I said. She knew me too well. “But, I have faith in you, girl. I’ve seen you pull yourself up from deeper shit. If you believe Gerry is the one for you, then go get him. Hard. And go get him _hard_. Seriously.”

Suddenly, I found myself laughing at Anita’s quip. Boy, she never failed to lift my spirits up and to help me pull my shit in order. She’s right. I could do this. Bill was a chapter in my life that I learned so much from, thanks to the mistakes that I’ve made. But now, I knew better, and I wouldn’t let myself commit the same mistakes again with Gerry.

Speaking of the devil, I heard my phone ring and I saw Gerry’s number flashing on the screen.

“Girl, I gotta go. Gerry’s on the line,” I excused myself from Anita. ‘

“Alright, have fun with your boytoy! Oh wait, sorry. MAN toy,” Anita giggled as she waved goodbye.

Okay, pull yourself together Hillary. You can do this.

“Hi Babe…uh-huh…I’m fine, Babe. Listen, are you free tonight? Wanna come over? I brought a Bacardi and some others…I am so looking forward tonight. See you at lunch?”


	4. Mindfuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! I am dropping this chapter early because I have a hectic week ahead. Lots of work + exam + organizing a convention in an island 500km from my home + a short 2-day vaycay. I'll try to keep up with my one chapter per week schedule. :)
> 
> Thanks again for the love that you have been giving to my fic. Sure means a lot to this noob/amateur!
> 
> P.S. In advance of this chapter, I would like to say: Sorry and you're welcome *evil grin*
> 
> P.P.S. Remember the "E stands for Extra Offensive"? Well, that definition certainly applies to this chapter. :)

Gerry had been anything but an angel. He too noticed my less-than-sunny mood and he offered to talk about it with him. I insisted my silence, but I did tell him that I was having a rough patch with a “friend”. He didn’t press further, but instead gave me word of comforting advice. At that moment, he was secretly vindicating my decision to dump Bill. See, Hillary? Bill would never do anything like that to you. He would simply nod and say “uh-huh” while you’re speaking and wouldn’t even bother comfort you like Gerry did.

Gerry managed to get me back on track in no time. That night when he came over, we had a very hot make-out session, and for the first time, I felt his erection. However, we didn’t go all the way (he did allow me to blow him. He responded in kind by fingering me. It was…an interesting experience). He wanted to hold off for a bit and get to know me better before he shoved his penis inside me. God. Could he be any more perfect? Sure, I was used to Bill’s no-preambles-needed style, but Gerry’s sensitivity to these things – things that Bill found “girly” – was the one that made me like Gerry more.

That Friday, I received a text from Gerry inviting me to go out the next day. Of course, I said yes! He was asking me out to Maison Premiere in Williamsburg, and there was no way I would reject that. The bar was famous for their oysters, and damn, oysters and alcohol certainly meant one thing: sexy time!

Also, I was relieved that Gerry didn’t choose the Cassini Bar. It would have been awkward as fuck if we ran into Bill at the bar. God. Who knew what shit would spew in his mouth in case he decided to disrupt my date with Gerry as a payback for what I did to him. To my defense, I reached out to Bill after our disastrous encounter, but he was ignoring my texts and email. Heck, I even sent him an apology burger from his favorite burger joint in Long Island. If he was being immature, then that justified the less-than-perfect end to our sexual relationship.

Then came Saturday night. Gerry told me he would pick me up at nine, so naturally, I was ready by six. Sure, I had to retouch my make-up every so often, but by the time Gerry came, I was pretty sure that no amount of making out would erase my layers of lip stain, lipstick and lip gloss. Hell, I didn’t spend a crap amount of money for that new Fenty lipstick only to be removed at first kiss.

When the doorbell rang, I almost knocked off my make-up box in excitement, but of course, I didn’t let him see it. When I opened the door, the sight of Gerry holding a bunch of red roses welcome me, and he was treated to the sight of me in a white see-through dress (and no, he couldn’t see the goodies yet). His eyes traveled from my face, down to my chest and to my legs, and all the way back up. My sharp eyes caught him gulping. Ha! I think he wanted to get on to business but there was a reservation waiting for us in Maison Premiere, and there was no way we were going to miss that.

After an hour’s drive, we managed to arrive on time for our reservation in Maison Premiere. God, I missed this place. The last time I was in here was when my ex, Clark, brought me here because I was having an oyster craving. For a while, he thought that I was pregnant. But when I took the pregnancy test, we were both disappointed that the results yielded negative. After that, things weren’t so great for us. Maybe it was because Clark was really hoping for a baby and I sort of let him down. We did break up amicably, though there were times that I missed him terribly.

But now, there was no risk of a pregnancy downer, because Gerry and I hadn’t had sex yet. But hopefully after this dinner, we would. *wink* *wink*

The hostess led us to the garden where a table for two was waiting for us. Despite being full, the place wasn’t very noisy. It had a very specific ambiance that was perfect for a romantic date. A spectacular garden with a violin quartet playing in the background. What more could you ask for?

Gerry had the wagyu beef while I had the king salmon. He wanted to order the oyster platter already but I, getting a little embarrassed now because he just declared he would foot the bill, insisted that we wait for the happy hour. But, I didn’t say no to the À La Louisiane cocktail, which was to die for. The Maison’s absinthe cocktails were their best seller, and the Louisiane was my favorite.

It was safe to say that Gerry and I were digging this date. Lots of flirting, jokes and deep conversations were exchanged. I haven’t felt this good with a man for a long time, and that was saying something because I was a serial dater before I met Bill.

Once the clock struck 11, the happy hour was now on and Gerry and I went on to order our favorite oysters. It was perfect since we already had dinner, and it would lessen the chances of us getting upset stomachs. Of course, we ordered more of those absinthe cocktails. By the time the oysters arrived, the alcohol was starting to take a toll on me, so I gently pushed the cocktail away and settled for water for the meantime.  

As I was slurping my third oyster, I seemed to have seen a familiar form of a man walking towards one of the unoccupied seats. I let my eyes wander and followed that form. I tilted my head on the pretext of listening to Gerry, but in truth, my concentration was somewhere else. Who was that guy?

Soon enough, I found my answer when I finally saw Bill flirting with a woman I’ve never seen before.

Never in my life did I want more to stab someone with a butter knife.

Bill and this mysterious woman had called a waitress to place their orders. After they had done so, they went back to their flirtatious conversation (or at least, I thought it was flirtatious, based on their giggles and Bill pinching the woman’s cheek). I tried to get back to mine, but with Bill in the vicinity, it was hard to concentrate, no matter how sexy Gerry looked when slurping an oyster.

I tried to get a grip of myself. It’s not as if Bill was cheating on me or anything. If anything, I was the one who was “cheating” on him (which depended on what your definition of “cheating” was). He had the right to date whoever he wanted as much as I had. Heck, he could even date a cactus if he wanted to. Whatever he did with his life and relationships, it was none of my fucking business.

Except that I wanted to strangle that woman and bury her alive.

Damn, the nerve of her! Nobody fucking touch Bill’s nose! Oh, that bitch. She did not just suggestively lick her lips in front of Bill. And how dare his eyes follow the seductive motion of their tongue. Fuck. They were so disgusting, and to think, their oysters weren’t served yet! I think I would puke if I saw more of their shameless flirting on a public place that was designed to be mine and Gerry’s romantic spot.  

Of course, given that I was looking at them, it was bound for Bill to see me staring at them, so I quickly and nervously shifted my gaze back to Gerry, who was still happily slurping his oyster and talking about his night with Harvey Weinstein. I listened to the salacious details of Gerry’s story while I low-key spied on Bill and his date (yes, I could multitask. I mastered that during my stint in the ER). Now that Bill had realized that I was there, it seemed that he was on a mission to piss me off and ruin my amazing date night. He was looking at me intently. If stares could melt, then I would have been a blob of hot wax by now.

I saw their oysters had arrived, and they dug in. Bill picked up the first oyster, looked at my direction, and slowly slurped the shellfish. After that, he placed the empty shell on the plate and licked his lips. He even bit his lower lip oh so seductively, as if he was purposely trying to get a rise of out me.

And it worked. For the first time that night, I felt my panties drench.  

Two could play this game, I thought fiercely. When Gerry had finished with his story, I casually took an oyster and sensually fed it to him. As I did so, I looked at Gerry and my tongue swirled all over my upper lip. The reaction that I got was nothing short of amazing. Gerry couldn’t get his eyes off me, and so couldn't Bill. From the corner of my eye, I saw him squirm in his seat, and that shift was unmistakably due to the tightening in his pants.

Bill – 1, Hillary – 1.

“That was so hot, Babe. No global warming could ever top that,” Gerry gasped.

I flirtatiously giggled at Gerry, but that was meant more for Bill than for him. While Gerry enjoyed the attention that I was giving to him, I could see Bill fuming from the opposite end of the garden. Out of courtesy to his date, Bill was pretending that he was enjoying her company, but that nose flare of his was unmistakable. If this was Bill’s first date with the woman, I doubt that she had noticed that he was even remotely paying attention. Bill was a master of the body language, but not even his slightest quirks could pass by me unnoticed.

Feeling triumphant over Bill's annoyance, I crossed my legs and swayed my free leg to his direction. I purposely rubbed my foot on Gerry's leg and responded in kind with a sexy smirk on his face. From the corner of my eye, I could see Bill's left leg jerking up and down. I changed the position of my legs as if I was squirming, and the jerking of his leg intensified. At that moment, I couldn't tell whether my smile was because of my satisfaction over his stumbles, or because I was still getting a reaction from him. Either way, I was happy with it. 

For the rest of the happy hour, I continued my low-key assault in Bill, and there was no doubt in our minds that I won. He remained pissed while I enjoyed my date with Gerry. When it was time for us to go, I saw no signs that Bill and his date would leave anytime soon. But as Gerry and I stood up, something never in my wildest dreams would happen. For a split second, Bill looked at me, he leaned over his table and locked himself in a passionate kiss with the girl. A second had barely gone by and he was already Frenching her. Nobody around them caught their attention, as this type of behavior was usual in the Maison, but they certainly had mine. 

Too bad homicide was illegal. 

I wanted to pull Gerry back and kiss him front of everyone in the Maison, but I wasn't going to go that low. Besides, it would make me look desperate in front of Bill. I tried to remain classy and dignified (though my actions earlier were not) and left the restaurant without another fuss.

As we walked towards Gerry's car, we took our time stealing little kisses and groping each other. Damn. Gerry was ready for some action now, and so was I. Fuck. I didn't think we would ever make it back to my apartment. 

Gerry pulled me towards a dark alley and started kissing me. I took my time savoring his slow, sensual kisses as he gently pushed me against the wall. Oooooh. My pussy was already tingling with anticipation. I haven't had any since I left Bill, and I was looking forward to being filled again. 

As Gerry was sucking my right nipple, I heard a pair of moans and grunts from another couple in the background. I motioned Gerry to move a bit so that we wouldn't be seen. He immediately obliged and as we moved, I felt like I was being dumped with cold water as I saw Bill being pinned against the wall by that same woman who was with him in the Maison. They just arrived in the alley, but she was already unbuttoning his shirt. 

I tried not to look at Bill, so I concentrated on Gerry, who was back up and already sucking the skin on my neck. Aaaaaaaaah. Yes, Gerry. Mark me. Make me yours. I belong to you now, and not to that sick bastard who was fucking in front of us. Gerry, incensed by my moans, sucked my skin harder. Fuck. That would leave a mark really good. 

With my neck and back in an arched position, I had the mistake of bringing my head back down to give Gerry his own hickey. As I nipped his shoulder, I could see Bill giving the woman a hickey. I leaned my head further down, but I still had a view of them in front of me. Bill, already with a hickey, launched his head into the girl's neck and returned the favor.

Somehow, I could feel Bill's lips in my neck. 

I looked up to take a clearer view of them, and I swore I saw Bill mouth at me, "You're fucking mine."

His words lit a raging fire inside me. Oh hell no, Bill Clinton. I do not belong to a fucking asshole like you, who purposely went to a bar with another woman and followed me to a dark alley just to taunt what I was missing. Well, newsflash, William Jefferson Clinton: I will fuck this guy so good, you wish you could kill yourself with envy. 

I could tell Bill was incensed, judging by his flushed face. Good. That ought to shut him up for a while. 

But I was wrong. As Gerry was still paying attention to my nipples, the woman removed Bill's shirt and began to worship his body. Honey, you're doing it wrong. Clearly, she did not know what she was doing, as she missed Bill's nipples, where a swipe of my tongue could make him do my bidding. It was like my hypnotic pocket watch that I could dangle to put him completely under my control. Speaking wasn't the only thing my tongue was good at, and I was secretly proud of it.

The woman was now opening his pants, and I almost laughed when she jerked backward after his cock sprang forward from his briefs. Ha. She wasn't expecting how big he was. Be careful, bitch. You might bite off more than you could chew. Or in this case, suck off more than you could swallow. 

Bill closed his eyes when the woman wrapped his mouth around his stiff cock. Unknowingly, I clicked my tongue in fury. Oh how badly I wanted to cut his dick for parading in front of my face that someone was better at sucking than I was. Scums like Bill Clinton shouldn't be allowed to procreate, and I think I was reasonable when I say that cutting his dick would be of service to the universe. 

Bill opened his eyes and glared at me again. She can suck better than you, I watched his mouth from afar. It didn't help my already raging temper. 

I badly wanted to show that ass how good I was, so I had Gerry stop sucking my boob and I took my turn servicing him with my tongue. Every lash and swirl elicited a groan and a shiver from him, and my ego was stoked. I finally reached his legs, and I was less than careful in opening his pants (I was pretty sure I ripped the zipper off). Gerry's cock greeted me like a soldier in attention, and I couldn't wait to start pleasuring it. Slowly, I opened my mouth and buried his entire length until I could feel the tip in my uvula. Fuck. I needed to breathe. 

Sucking off Gerry was more laborious than Bill, but I managed to get the same reaction from him. Ha. I told you all I was fucking good. Though I get stumble a bit when he was fucking my mouth as I sucked him. It made breathing a little more difficult, but this champion sucker could handle anything. 

"Yes, suck me, my Little Minx."

My eyes popped open, and it wasn't because I was choking.  In the midst of Gerry's grunting, I hear Bill's voice from the opposite end of the alley. Little Minx? He used to call me ‘Little Minx' during sex. Was he using that now to his new tramp? Was he flaunting that he had found his new little minx? Fuck him, then. And he would be sorry he ever opened his dirty little mouth.

I stopped sucking Gerry, which was lucky since he told me he wouldn't last long. Perfect. I let him pull my skirt and panties off. His fingers touch my pussy, and I shivered. My soaking cunt was hungry for his cock, and I begged him to fuck me, loud enough for Bill to hear. 

"Fuck me now," I begged urgently. 

Gerry nodded, his forehead touching mine. He gently rubbed himself against my slick lips, and without any hint of gentleness, he shoved himself right in, and I let out a strained scream. 

"Oh fuck!"

God, that was so fucking good, my jaw seemed to have locked in a big O. Gerry wasn't being gentle at all, and I loved it. 

From the other end of the alley, I could hear the sound of skin slapping against skin from the other couple who was now fucking also. My several moments of undeniable bliss prevented me from spying on Bill and his girl, but when I came to my senses, I saw them fucking as hard as Gerry and I right now. Bill kept saying "little minx", and unlike the first time, I became more desperate rather than furious. Perhaps it was because of muscle memory that I was responding to that phrase, but it didn't matter much to me right now. From my peripheral vision, I saw Bill lift the woman's leg into his side. Strangely, I, too lifted my leg into Gerry's ass, and I didn't know why I did it.

_Bill's fucking you, that's why_ , my brain whispered to me. 

Oh hell no he wasn't.

"Oh fuck me good, you Raging Bull," I moaned. 

Oh fuck. 

I didn't know why I said that. Raging Bull? It was my equivalent to his "Little Minx". As I felt the embarrassment creep all over my face, Bill was looking at me with a triumphant smirk. "Miss me so much?" he mouthed at me. Urgh. Like he was the one to talk. He was the one who was screaming "Little Minx" first before I even mentioned "Raging Bull". 

All this rough fucking had me clawing Gerry's back, and finally, I was ready to burst. My hips were frantic against his thrusts. My moans became louder and louder and I didn't care whether someone else could hear me (though I know someone was listening). I just wanted to get off now, and Gerry to come along too. I could tell by his short gasps that he too was very, very close. Yes, Babe. Fuck me harder. In the middle of his rapid thrusts, I finally exploded. My belly flipped as my orgasm surged in every single vein in my body. I had to take in a large gasp of air when I stilled in Gerry's arms, a contrast to his own convulsions when finally, he too had climaxed. 

"That was fucking amazing, Babe," I told Gerry as I panted. "I think that was the best one I ever had." I made sure it was loud enough for Bill to hear it. 

On the opposite end of the alley, Bill and the woman were still going for it, and it gave an odd satisfaction for me that Bill couldn't finish, though I saw the woman squirmed against him in ecstasy. Good for her that Bill managed to make her orgasm really good, but I noticed that he had a difficulty finishing. Damn. I could pick up a glass of Chardonnay right now and watch him fuck this woman incessantly and not climax. Ha. But in time, I felt bad for the girl, who was already wincing in pain, but she was just too polite to tell Bill that she was already hurting. 

Oh boy. I guess I would have to intervene. 

Once Bill was looking at me again, I licked my lips seductively and mouthed to him, "Imagine it's me."

I didn't see him nod, but he did close his eyes and pressed himself closer to the girl. His eyes were tightly shut, and there was no doubt that he was imagining that I was the one he was fucking. And that did the trick. I saw him still in the girl's arms as he thrust for the final time. He shivered on her, spilling his cum inside her.

"Oh, no Bill! Not inside!" I heard the woman say.

"Sorry," Bill replied sheepishly. 

Ha. His fantasy of me must have been so vivid that he forgot that he wasn't fucking me. I could just laugh right then and there, but Gerry would probably ask questions, so I decided to ask him to stay in my apartment and hopefully we could have another round tonight. Or cuddle if he was too exhausted. 

As Gerry and I left the alley, I heard the woman berate Bill for cumming inside her. Ha. Served him right though. We both know that he was thinking of me when he fucked that woman in the alley. Poor girl. She never stood a chance against me. 

I could almost feel pity for Bill. Almost. 


	5. The Ex Strikes Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! First of all, thank you for the awesome feedback you guys gave in the last chapter! You are so wonderful! You're the best!
> 
> Second, I will not have access to my laptop for two weeks so this is all I'll be uploading. :(
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

"So you basically fucked each other without actually fucking each other."

Laura was frantically whispering behind my ear as she followed me around the third floor of the hospital. She was taking a break, and I was jotting down my notes on my patient's medical record. Laura was the first one I had told about the incident in the alley, and she wouldn't let me go until she squeezed every last detail of out me.

"If you could call it that. From where I see it, I tortured him during his sex. " I replied nonchalantly.

"But you came because of him?"

"No. I came because Gerry was a good fuck," I said flatly. A mom who was wheeling her son heard me and shot an angry look in my direction. Oooops. Guess I was pretty loud.

"But what about the time when you sucked Gerry because you where 'threatened' by that woman?"

"If anything, that 'threat' helped make Gerry cum. Nothing to do with me."

"You didn't fantasize him or anything?"

I rolled my eyes when I stopped at the nurses' station to drop off my clipboard. "Of course not! I can cum on my own."

"Does that include the time when you secretly masturbated and imagined that he was fucking you?" Damn, Laura was eager to pin me down.

"Hey, that was different. He got me all hot and bothered so I had to fantasize about him. Not this time though. I had Gerry." That was a partial lie. Bill did make me all hot and bothered in the first place, but nobody had to know that.

"But what about the leg hooking thing?"

I raised my eyebrow. "What about it?"

Laura shrugged. "It seemed that you were trying to mimic what he was doing to the girl."

I let out a sigh of exasperation. "We were both fucking against the wall. The choices of movements are limited. I can't just go all doggy-style in that alley!"

"But you did hook up your leg immediately after he hooked up the girl's..."

"Why am I being prosecuted for doing what normal people do during sex?!" I almost exploded at Laura, but thank God she knew me too well to be offended. 

"Nobody is doing that, Honey. I just want to get to the bottom line."

"And which is?" I said irritably.

"Have you gotten over Bill completely?"

I was stupid if I didn't see that question coming from a mile away. Even when Bill and I were sleeping, the girls had always insisted that there was something more between us. No, we were friends with benefits. Friends at most, fuck buddies at least.

"And why would I be? I'm not in love with him or something..."

"You seem to be taking your break-up quite hard, though not as bad as him..."

"And how am I taking it hard? By fucking my boyfriend again and again?"

"You are no doubt still attracted to him, and you still want him during sex," Laura explained.

"Well, it's just muscle memory. I'll get used to Gerry," I waved her off. Gerry and I did have sex the following morning, and I had no problem cumming without Bill's help. Urgh. Why do they think I couldn't climax on my own?

"It's not that." I couldn't believe that Laura was still calm while my temper was already rising again. "Maybe you still haven't realized how attached you are to him."

"For the last time, Laura: I. AM. NOT." The only thing that prevented me from screaming at Laura was the fact that we were in the wards. God, she's infuriating! Who is she to decide things for me? I know Bill better than any person alive (and yes, that included this mother) and my friends had no right the judge the relationship I had with Bill, or to dictate to me what I felt.

I think Laura found this discussion hopeless, as she quietly bid me goodbye. She patted my arm, and I let out a mumbled smile.  I quietly mumbled by goodbye to her and then we parted ways.

That conversation sparked my temper, and the rest of my day didn't improve. I was irritable, even when dealing with my young patients. The nurses bore the brunt of my temper. Poor folks. They had to put up with me for my bitchy attitude. I quietly told myself that I should bake then an apology apple pie. I love my nurses so much. I was just feeling really peachy that day.

At the end of the shift, when I was about to head out, I was surprised to see the head of Internal Medicine, Dr. Myeung Seuk Lee, hanging out in the doctor's lounge. Because he had so much on her plate, he usually didn't mingle much with us residents. I usually see him in the conference rooms or in the cafeteria with the other board of directors.

"Hi, Dr. Lee. Nice seeing you here," I greeted Dr. Lee as I took my shoulder bag from my locker.

"Hey, Dr. Rodham. I was waiting for you!" said Dr. Lee cheerily.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dr. Lee. There was a problem with that kid in the OR today. That Murray boy?"

"Ah yes. That happens. Pre-op tests are clear and then shit happens. Oh well. Is he good now?"

I nodded. "I just checked on him in the recovery room. He'll be in his suite in 24 hours."

Dr. Lee stood up and patted my arm. "Good job, Dr. Rodham. Anyway, the reason I was looking for you is that I have a favor to ask."

"Oh, sure. Dr. Lee. Spill." I was listening.

"NY Presbyterian is holding a charity event for the nursing homes in Brooklyn, and we're going to have an auction. For one night, the staff here will be auctioned off for an evening. The auction will be at the NYU auditorium. The money from the event will be donated to these nursing homes. Each department will send a male and female staff to be auctioned off. For Internal Medicine, I have chosen you and Dr. Alan Resnick."

That was awesome, and I'd love to be in it! There was only one problem. "Dr. Lee, I don't know if you knew yet but I am already dating someone."

"Oh that's not a problem. The winning bidders will sign a contract agreeing that they'll only have dinner with you. No monkey business.

I still wasn't sure. Gerry might not like it. "Can I at least talk to my boyfriend about this?"

"Of course, of course. He can bid too if he wants!"

Oh that sounded awesome! "Sure, I'll tell him!"

"Alright! Can I have your answer tomorrow?"

I nodded. "Sure, Dr. Lee. You'll know first thing in the morning."

And with that, Dr. Lee bid his goodbye, and I was free to go home. 

That night, Gerry came over to my apartment and I cooked shepherd’s pie for us. I was relieved that he didn’t barf at my cooking, unlike the last time when he threw up after eating three spoonfuls of my mac and cheese. I partially blamed Bill for this. One time, I bought some paella when I came over to his apartment. You know, as a friendly gesture. He didn’t like my cooking, and I never heard the end of it. He was yapping here and there about how terrible my cooking was, so I decided that I would cook for him again. To be fair, my cooking skills were less than the average person, and making that paella was an epic struggle, but I felt that my skills were enough for me to survive without resorting to instant ramen and ready-to-eat rice.

Seeing that Gerry was in a good mood after than passable dinner, I decided to bring up the subject of the auction during the commercials in Scandal.

“Gerry, my boss, Dr. Lee asked me a favor earlier.”

“Mm-hmm?” He was playing with my toes.

“He says that NY Presbyterian will have a charity auction for the nursing homes in Brooklyn.”

“What are they gonna auction?”

“Me. They’re gonna auction me.”

Gerry’s eyes quickly shifted from my foot to my face. “What are they gonna do to you?”

“Oh, just an evening with me. Dr. Lee assured that will be no monkey business.” I assured him.

“Well, do you want to?”

I nodded. “Yes. I mean, it’s really great that I can help those old people in Brooklyn nursing homes, and I kinda feel flattered that people will want to pay money to see me.”

“Well, if I’m gonna bid and win, does my prize include sex in your apartment?” Gerry winked, and my belly just flipped upside down.

“God, of course! The entire evening and the day after” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him lovingly. I would have kissed him longer but Scandal was back on, and duh, I wouldn’t miss Scandal, not even for him (haha, just kidding. But seriously, we couldn’t miss the next part).

With that, I told Dr. Lee that I would like to be “auctioned off” for charity.  He said that to make the auction more exciting, bidders will wear masks when they enter the auction room. Damn. This was like something out of a spy novel, and I was thrilled. And in preparation for the event, I had to dig through my closet to find an appropriate dress to wear. I had no shortage of pretty cocktail dresses for events like this. It’s just that it was hard to choose among a wide range of selections. Sigh. First world problems.

Because I was feeling adventurous for the auction, I decided to dye my hair blonde. I used to have blonde hair during high school, but when I entered college, I sort of became lazy and I never bothered to dye my hair again, even in med school. But the auction was a special event, so I should look extra special too. And besides, studies have shown that Americans are partial to blonde women over brunettes. Well, I would like to see that for myself.

Finally, after two weeks, the day of the auction had arrived, and I couldn’t be more excited.

At the NYU auditorium, the organizers kept us “dates” in the holding room. I met Dr. Resnick inside, where he had a cordial chat. He was from gynecology, and like the rest of Internal Medicine, he was up-to-date with the latest on my love life. Like me, he was asked by Dr. Lee to participate in the auction. But unlike me, he didn’t have a girlfriend or a boyfriend to save him from a crazy date.

“Maybe this is your chance to see other people,” I teased Dr. Resnick.

He chuckled. “You think? What do you think my date will think of me when he finds out I’m an OB-GYN?”

“That she’ll have free mammograms for the rest of her life?” My quip made both of us laugh.

“That’s called health insurance,” he said.

“So what’s the point of dating you when girls can’t get free mammograms?” We were still both giggling.

“Your date will be lucky. A woman with a wicked humor like you. I’d bid you if I can,” Dr. Resnick said, and I was touched.

“Awww, thanks. I’d bid you too. I’d ask my Mom to come over.”

“Ha! Very funny,” Dr. Resnick shook his head while still laughing in stitches.

Chatting with Dr. Resnick had been fun, but I was really looking forward to the auction. At exactly 7 pm, the event organizer called us one-by-one. The nurses were called first, then the medical technologists, and then the office staff. As time passed, the holding room became emptier, and eventually, Dr. Resnick was called too. In the end, I was the only one left.

Finally, I was called to the stage. The room was full, though the audience were mostly men. I presumed that the women had already left since there were no more male dates to bid, although she could see a couple of women in the mix. I wondered if I Gerry lost the bid and I ended up spending the evening with a woman. I wouldn’t exactly say no to that. That would be quite…interesting.

The auctioneer, Dr. Sam Jones from Endocrinology, settled the audience down.

“So, we have finally arrived at the most anticipated moment of the evening: the final bid! For the final bid of the night, we have Dr. Hillary Rodham of the Pediatric Cardiology section. As you can probably deduce, she is a doctor which deep passion for children’s health. She graduated from Wellesley and Johns Hopkins. She’s 30, and she loves mocha cake. She loves to read too. Her favorite TV shows are Scandal, The Good Wife, House of Cards and Madam Secretary. If she could date one person in the world, she would choose Mr. Amal Alamuddin a.k.a. George Clooney a.k.a the Batman better than Ben Affleck. Her words, not mine.”

The crowd erupted with laughter after Dr. Sam Jones read my witty write-up, which, not to sound like I’m tooting my own horn, did a good job of rousing the bidder’s interest. I sat on the chair in the middle of the stage and crossed my legs as I watched the bidding with great amusement.

And with that, Dr. Jones opened the bidding.

“Alright! Let’s open the bidding with $500. Do I hear 500?”

A man at the back raised his hand.

“Good. $600. Anyone?”

Gerry, who was in the leftmost seat on the front row, raised his hand. God, he’s a lifesaver

“I hear $600. Do I hear a $700?”

The butterflies that were hibernating in my stomach suddenly woke up. Shit. Someone else was bidding on me.

“$1000!” I heard Gerry shout.

Yes! That’s my boyfriend.

“$1500”. The same mystery guy said calmly.

“$2000!” Gerry battled back. He was sweating and fuming. Someone else was going after me!

“$10,000!”

Damn it! That fucking sugar daddy was out to get me!

“$10,000. Do I hear anything higher?” Dr. Jones was searching the crowd for counter-bidders.

The room was silent. I feared that Gerry didn’t bring enough cash to buy me off from that money-grubbing dude.

“$10,000…going once….going twice…SOLD!” Dr. Jones declared happily. “Dr. Rodham has been sold for $10,000. Sir, please meet Dr. Rodham at Room 201 for your introductory meeting and agreement of terms.”

I was allowed to smile and wave one last time until the event organizer pulled me away and from the stage and led me towards Room 201. There, a bottle of red wine, two wine glasses and a bucket of ice sat on top of a long table covered with white linen. I supposed that the wine was for me and the winning bidder. Before the sugar daddy could enter the room, I took my phone out from my phone and shot Gerry a short text message: **_Waiting for the winning bidder_**. After a few seconds, I received a reply: **_Sorry, I didn’t think to bring cash. Winning bidder must have wanted you so bad. Any creepy patients before?_**

I replied: **_My patients are kids_** to which Gerry replied: **_What about the parents?_** I tried to recall if any of the parents of my patients had shown remotely an interest in me, and so far, I had come up with nothing. But then again, I might have been too obnoxious to notice that a dad was already ogling at me.   

I was in the middle of typing my reply to Gerry’s text when I heard the door open, and a man with a Phantom of the Opera mask appeared in the doorway.

No fucking way.

How come I didn’t recognize him sooner?

There was no mistaking it. I kicked myself for missing him during the auction.

It was Bill, hiding behind that white mask.       

Oh hell no.

I leaned on the long table, seeking refuge from that ass who bought me for $10,000. He removed his mask, and a mischievous smirk greeted me. Urgh. My heart was pounding, and my stomach was twisted in knots. There was no doubt in my mind that he was up to no good, and he took part in the bidding so that he could exact his revenge on me.

I would have felt better if he just simply uploaded our sex video online and be done with it (He once asked for my permission to video us during sex to that he could have something to masturbate to.) But this? This complex diabolical plan that he orchestrated and that involved buying me for an insane amount of money? God, I felt like a cheap floozy. Whatever activity that Bill had in mind for us, I was sure that it will involve sex.

“I own you now, or at least for six hours,” Bill chided.

“I should have known that you’ll make me pay you back this way. You’re more cunning than I thought.” I said with much venom in my voice.

“I didn’t graduate Yale Law School for nothing, Darlin’,” he snickered.

“Oh stop calling me, that. I ain’t your ‘Darling’. I made that very clear.”I clicked my tongue in defiance.

“Did you?” Bill locked the door. Shit. Under normal circumstances, the hairs on the back of my neck should have stood up but then something else in me standing up. And apparently, something in Bill was trying to stand up too.

“Don’t you dare take one step further,” I warned him. My hand was blindly searching for anything on the table that might be of use to me, but alas, there wasn’t even a butter knife on the table. Drat.

He wasn’t deterred by my empty threats, so he closed the distance between us, and he wrapped my waist with his arms, his skin flush against mine. His hardness was evident against the soft silk of my dress. Fuck. My body was betraying me fast.

“And yeah, you’re right, I want to exact my revenge on you,” he whispered sexily in my year, and I said goodbye to my rational thoughts.

“Shouldn’t revenge be something that will make me miserable?”

“So are you saying that what I am about to do won’t make you miserable?”

Fuck. That was a mistake. “You can’t hurt me.”

“Shut up.” His nose was mere inches away from mine, his breath tickling my face.

I could argue the same. He should up shut up and kiss me pronto. He seemed to have read my thoughts when he hauled me and began kissing me hard. So hard, it was even harder than the time we made out in my broom closet because my parents were coming over in an hour and he wanted to have sex before he left my apartment. Shit. He was really going all in, and so did I. My hands were already inside his briefs, cupping the balls I’ve missed so much.

His groans in between my kisses gave me an odd sense of satisfaction. I shouldn’t have been feeling it, but I did. I felt like molten lava flowing through the rocky paths in a volcano. Yes, Bill. Lower. My body needed your attention. He pulled the strap of my dress off my shoulder and exposed my lacy black demi-bra, with my nipples almost poking out from the cups. He bent down to kiss each one.

“I missed this so much. Fuck,” Bill began to unhook my bra, and that snapped me out from this insane bliss. I felt like I was burned, and it only until now for me to feel the pain. No, no, no, no. This was wrong. This was so wrong. Was I really going to allow him to fuck me after he paid $10,000 to get me and thus denigrating myself to the level of a hooker?

I need to get out of here right away. Since my rational self had left me a long time ago, I grabbed the bottle of red wine from behind me and poured the entire contents of the bottle above his head. He forcefully shoved me on the table out of deep shock. His looked down on his soggy shirt and waved off the excess wine on his skin.

“What the fuck was that for?” He screamed at me angrily.

“For kissing me and for whatever you’re planning to do to me! I know you’re planning something besides fucking me!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Fine, I was a willing participant in the fucking thing (and I was enjoying it immensely), but I just knew he was planning something else to get back at me. My actions had nothing to do with my conflicted feelings for him.

Nothing. At. All.

I marched straight to the door, stomping my foot to emphasize my displeasure. He tried to catch me (“Come back here!”) but my hand was already on the doorknob. I didn’t care that the event organizers would find Bill alone in the room and soaked in red wine. I needed to get away from him as far as I could. Nothing ever good ever happened to me while he was around.

“Come back!” were the last words I heard from him, his voice defeated. 

 


	6. Ceasefire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I just arrived home from an out-of-town trip literally thirty minutes ago and I am sunburned af, thanks to driving four wheel drives in volcanic trails. With my super busy week done, my last hurdle is my exam on Wednesday, and after that, I am free to write! TLYM readers, I promise you that I'll finish it after my exam, and that the end is near (about three chapters left?) 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is half fluff and half just pushing things along for the final conflict. I hope you like this chapter!

“For the last time, borrowing $10,000 just to avoid a date is freaking insane! It’s just for six hours! How bad can it be? The worst thing that can happen is that you’ll die in pleasure!” I heard Nikki scream from the kitchen as I sat on Nikki’s couch furiously scoured the internet for banks that offered low-interest rates for personal loans. I was at Nikki’s place for Sunday lunch because her husband, Raul, was overseas and she invited me over. Laura and Anita were invited too but they already had plans.

“I’d rather waste a fortune than to spend six hours with him,” I chucked my iPad to my side and crossed my arms. “

“Girl, you’re acting crazy,” Nikki emerged from the kitchen carrying a huge pot. She placed the pot on the dining table and hung her mitten-covered hands on her waist. “I thought you owe him an apology? Why are you being so hostile now?”

I rolled my eyes. “Duh, because he’s being an ass. Isn’t that given?”

Nikki couldn’t have facepalmed harder. “He’s being an ass because why?”

“He…uhm…He’s…” I couldn’t come up with an answer.

“Because he made you cum while you were having sex with Gerry?” Anita finished, and it annoyed the hell out of me.

“For the last time, HE DID NOT MAKE ME CUM!” I was pulling my hair out of deep frustration.

“Ah, okay. So he was probably looking at the two shadows having sex behind you and Gerry. Got it.”

Fine. He was the reason that I came so fucking hard. He aroused the hell out of me okay? But, it was Gerry who delivered the goods, not him. My friends weren’t giving Gerry enough credit. I mean, he had done all the **_hard_** work!

“Let’s say he made me cum,” I showed the slightest hint of my concession, “he was acting inappropriately because he was harassing me.”

“If you meant ‘harassment’ as staging live porn…”

“He was licking his lips at me!”

“Ah! So he made you wet from a distance…”

God. Nikki was infuriating! Why was she hell-bent on cooking up something between me and Bill when I was so determined to flush that man away? Wasn’t Nikki the one who advised me that it was good for me to make a fresh start after I complained to her that I wanted someone whom I can be with in a retirement home, and I was sure as hell it wasn’t gonna be Bill? Why had she turned 180 all of a sudden? Was there a Bill Clinton appreciation memo and I missed it?

“In case you have forgotten, Nikki, I was having sex with Gerry. There was no reason for me not to be wet,” I fired back.

“In case you have forgotten, Hillary, you were already wet inside the restaurant. Your words, not mine.”

I regretted not sparing a detail from her.

“Fine. I will concede everything,” I raised my hands in the air in surrender, “but what’s your point?”

Nikki walked towards the couch and sat next to me. She put my legs on top of my lap. “Hillary dear, maybe what we have been saying all along is true. Maybe Bill has fallen for you. That’s why he took this very hard. I know you have done everything to ask for his forgiveness. Maybe he doesn’t want closure because purposely doesn’t want to move on from you. Have you ever given him a chance to prove himself to you?”

“Why would I? He doesn’t know how to be in a serious relationship. He told me so. The longest girlfriend that he had lasted only for three months. Hear that, Nikki? Three fucking months,” I said. I thought I laid down my argument quite nicely.

“And how long have you been sleeping with him?”

“Almost a year?”

“See? You’ve outlasted all of his girlfriends,” Nikki said encouragingly.

“Are you saying that he should be rewarded because my tolerance for his bullshit is lower than the other women in his life?” I raised my eyebrow.

Nikki sighed in exasperation. Clearly, she thought I was being an annoying kid and I was getting on her nerves. I love you too, Nikki.

“Girl, you give him too little credit. Whatever he is today, I am sure his troubled childhood has a lot to do with it. His Mom dotes him to death, right? But I am sure that somehow, it’s not the kind of affirmation that he wanted. And somehow, he got it from you.”

“Oh great. The guy has self-esteem issues,” I tried to lighten the mood of the conversation.

“Shut up or I will charge you thousand bucks per hour,” she pointed at my lips, and I made a zipping motion in my mouth. “Hillary, you can’t judge people for the experiences that they had. You are fortunate enough to be free from the same issues that plague Bill and other people. Because you are so strong, Bill looked up to you for support.”

Nikki’s monologue had me struck. Wow. Just…wow. I didn’t realize how big of a bitch I was to him until now. Don’t get me wrong, I knew all the while that I owe him a better apology than a text message or a teary narration of why I was so fucked up after mistakenly kissing him. But the depth of how much I hurt him? Wow. I feel like a total shithead.  

Alright. It’s time for me to eat crow. He could have me for six hours. He could even have sex with me even if he wanted to (but I still thought it was a bad idea.)

I sighed. “I was being a total dick, and I don’t even have one.”

“Now you’re talking,” Nikki patted me on the back. “Now, I suggest that you do something special for him on your ‘date’.”

“I already gave him his favorite peach pie when I told him I don’t wanna sleep with him anymore?” I said tentatively.

“Well, you probably traumatized him from peach pies because of what you did, Dummy. The peach pie is probably a good start but you need to do something more.”

I thought deep and hard. How can I make it up to Bill?

Right then and there, a light bulb lit up above my head. I knew exactly what to do.

It took me three days to arrange everything for my surprise for Bill. After several angry phone calls, sobbing receptionists and $1,000 blown, my plan had finally fallen into place. I was to execute it at the end of my scheduled date with Bill. I felt really good about it, and after my plan was done, I hoped that I could somehow ease the hurt I inflicted on him.

Speaking of date with Bill, he and I finally signed the agreement for our six-hour rendezvous. We did it separately, though. We were supposed to sign it immediately after the auction but we both messed up, and he ended up drenched in red wine. I was thankful that he didn't tell anyone what I did to him. Or at least he kept it under the wraps. Such salacious behavior of mine would surely reach the hospital staff, or at least my bosses. A week had passed and there was no word of the pediacardio dumping wine all over the ex-lawyer. 

As if the stars had aligned for me, Gerry announced that he would be overseas for two weeks. His parents were buying a property in Ireland as his frail father sent him to represent him in closing the deal. Gerry's absence eased a little of my apprehension about my plan. It’s not that I was risking my relationship with Gerry to make amends with Bill, but I felt much better if Gerry was kept in the dark in all of this. I was relying on Bill and all the persons involved in my plan to keep everything under the wraps. 

A day before my date with Bill, an unusual mail had arrived. Bill had sent a manila envelope containing a CD and a letter, which read thus:

**_Bring this CD tomorrow. Do not watch it before then. Wear whatever you like. I'll see you in your apartment._ **

I found it weird that he sent this CD for me to bring it to our date, though it poked my curiosity. What was this? Was he planning a scavenger hunt or something? Bill had a knack for being unpredictable, and it annoyed the hell out of me when we were still sleeping with each other. Although, I was secretly thrilled with it. My life was never boring with him, that was sure.

The day of reckoning had finally arrived. Twenty minutes until six, and I was standing in front of the mirror fixing my hoop earrings. Bill told me to wear whatever I liked, but I wasn’t going to use the usual wardrobe, like the ones that I wear to the mall. No, I was going to wear something special. And the fact that it was fall meant that I could use my ever-precious boots. After hours of selection, I finally choose a black turtle-neck sleeveless blouse, a short gray skirt and a pair of black-knee high boots. My look was perfected by the hoop earrings, my favorite necklace with a jade crest, and my hair wrapped in a tight bun. There. I was all set for tonight.

Six o’clock came, and I was more anxious at that moment than when I was at my senior prom (I was voted prom queen, by the way. Just putting it on the record). The butterflies that had been slumbering in my stomach suddenly awakened and were fluttering madly inside me. I swore I thought I would poop or barf. I ran thrice to the bathroom and tried to get it out of my system, but I was constipated as fuck. I was tempted to eat cream cheese just to ease myself but I feared that if I couldn’t get it out, I might make a terrible mess later. Urgh. These fucking nerves were killing me.

I tried distracting myself by watching Game of Thrones on my phone. It did work. The feeling of anxiousness in my belly had gone, but the distraction had almost made me forget that Bill was supposed to come here. I checked the clock and saw that I was already 6:48. Huh. Had he been late?

I wanted to call Bill to check on him. After all, our reservation to the place I booked for us was 8 o’clock. There’s still time but the feeling of anxiousness was coming back again. Urgh. Was he still at home? Was he stuck traffic? Did something come up? If so, why didn’t he text me?

I decided that if he hadn’t arrived after five minutes, I’d call him.

Five minutes had passed. No doorbell. No text. I decided to wait for another five.

The second had come and passed and still no sign of Bill. Fuck.

_That’s it. I’m going to call him_ , I thought to myself. I stood up to grab my phone from my purse and I dialed his number. Within three rings, I heard his voice from the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me, Hillary. Aren’t you gonna pick me up?” I came out a quite irritable when I said that.

“Uhhhhm…”

What the fuck? What kind of a response was that?!

“What’s with ‘Uhhhhhm’? Didn’t you tell me you’d pick me up at six? Well, it’s already a quarter until seven. Are you chickening out on me, Clinton?” For some reason, my Bill Clinton blood pressure had shot up again. I mean, there was no reason for me to get mad at him for balking on a date. Wasn’t I been complaining to my friends how Bill boxed me into going out with him and now that he had given me exactly what I ‘wanted’, I should be singing praises to the heavens for this fucking miracle! But somehow, I was enraged when I heard that less than certain response from Bill.

_Unless I was really looking forward to seeing him tonight_

_Wait…was I?_

No. I was angry at him because I wanted him to come so that I could properly apologize and now threw cold water all over my plans just because he was too much of a baby to show up. I mean, I made a receptionist cry so that I could get a reservation over that five-star restaurant in the Hamptons, and now he would just Uh-uh. I ain’t letting my precious hard work and bitchiness go to waste.

As I was clicking my tongue in annoyance, I heard a gulp from the other end.

“I’ll be there,” Bill said, his voice meek. I’ve never heard him like that before unless you count the time when I mistakenly kissed him inside my apartment and he looked like all the confidence in his body had been sucked out of him.

“Just…just be quick, okay?”

“Alright.” My voice was quite calm and mellow, but in reality, I was rolling my eyes hard at him.

“Hey, Hillary,” he caught me before I put the phone down.

“The CD…is it still with you?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. Now that he mentioned it, I hadn’t seen the CD since I was at the hospital. Shit. With my phone tucked between my shoulder and my ear, I frantically searched for the phone in my purse, the kitchen, the living room, my bedroom. Heck, I even looked for it in my bathroom.  Dammit. The CD was fucking gone!”

“Uhm…what CD?” I lied.

“I sent you a CD yesterday. It should have reached you this morning.”

“Oh! Uhm…I haven’t received anything! Maybe it got lost in the mail?” _FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK._

“Well, it’s okay,” I heard Bill ended this sentence with a sigh of resignation. “It doesn’t matter, really.”

Oh crap. I crapped on him all over again. “Listen, I knew I was being a bitch to you over the past couple of weeks. The break-up thing and the…” I couldn’t even verbalize the awful things I did to him. “...the horrible things that came after it. I know I was wrong in not letting you have a say in our relationship, and I know I was being a total ass to you. And no, I shouldn’t have poured wine all over you when I was kissing you oh so willingly. So, since we were – or actually, we _are_ \-  supposed to have a date, I planned this nice date with you. I should have, you know, taken you out when I decided to break it off with you. You know, our last hurrah, just the two of us. Kind of our very own farewell party. But instead, I came to your apartment one night and announced that it’s all over between us. Brutal huh? But anyway, if you still want to go out tonight, it’s fine. If not, it’s fine for me –“

“I want to go,” Bill replied before I could even finish, and I was flooded with relief. I swore I heard the faintest sound of eagerness amidst his despondent demeanor.  

“Great! I’ll see you then?”

Finally, we bid each other goodbye. For some reason, when I ended the call, the words _our last hurrah_ rang resoundingly in my mind. _Our last hurrah_. The words felt like closing a great chapter in my life. I felt…surreal. After tonight, Bill and I would go our separate ways, and live our own lives as if we have never met each other. Neither of us had the illusion that we could still be friends after all that had happened. I mean, he had entire lifetime’s worth of reasons to hate me. On top of it was the fact that I just straight-faced lied to him a few minutes ago. However, I was hoping that we could get it all the anger and the pain out of our systems tonight and just enjoy the remaining time we had. I did owe him a serious apology and closure. If that was what he wanted, then that’s what he would get tonight.

My eyes landed on the stuffed toy of a bull that rested on top the coffee table. I had it custom-made from the local toy store and I was supposed to give him tonight. Why a bull, you ask? Well, one time, I slept in his apartment, (actually, those were countless times) and Bill asked me to pick up the mail for him.

“Get my mail, Hillary?” he said as he lounged on the couch.

“I am not your maid or your dog, you fucker,” I stuck my tongue out in annoyance.

“Nope. You’re just my booty call who was so blown away by my performance, she obeys to my every whim,” he said with a smug smile on his face that I would gladly wipe off with a witty retort. “Open my mail, will ya?”

I rolled my eyes at him. He was such an arrogant, lazy fucker. But still, I did as I was told. I sat beside him and placed the pieces of mail in my lap. I took a large manila envelope, came from a life insurance company. Normally, I found these documents sensitive so I stay out of other people’s stuff like these, but since Bill gave me permission, I went right ahead and ripped the envelope open. Inside was what looked like a life insurance policy. I never cared for reading long, boring documents like these so meh, I skipped the pages. But there was something in the pages that caught my eye: his signature.

“Is…is this your signature?” I squinted and Bill leaned down to look at the scribble.

“Yep, it’s mine,” he confirmed.

Ha! A long, loud, hearty laugh escaped from my throat, and my peculiar reaction confused Bill. God, I’ve never laughed this hard since college when I saw the girl I hated in class slipped and fell down the stairs and everyone saw her panties under her skirt.

“Seriously, is that your signature?” I tried to speak in between my fits of laughter. Fuck, I could feel the tears forming in my eyes. God, I needed to breathe.

“Yes! What the fuck are you laughing at?” I could tell that he was getting irritated by my incessant laughing. Poor guy, he’s still in the dark!

“YOUR SIGNATURE!” I burst out screaming in the middle of my giggles.

Bill looked at his signature again. “What the fuck is wrong with my signature?”

I took a breath because my laughter was robbing me of oxygen. I knew I was setting up myself for a Bill Clinton rage, but here goes nothing:

“YOU ‘BILL’ LOOKS LIKE ‘BULL’!”

I held my breath for his reaction, which he seemed to purposely delay for a few seconds. His face was red – whether due to embarrassment, annoyance or anything else, I did not know. Bill’s red face was like a blaring siren sound for me. His rosacea always came in handy for me whenever I overstepped my bounds on Bill. If his face was red – with the exception of cold weather -  I knew I was in trouble. And now, he was as red as the brick wall in my apartment building. I was certainly going to be punished for my naughtiness, but that was all worth it.

I was expecting him to walk out or something like that, but instead, he ripped the T-shirt I was wearing (it was his anyway) and he began assaulting my neck, the most sensitive part of my body. I was wet in no time.     

“You don’t think you’ll get a punishment for that, didn’t you?” he said huskily in my ear.

“Oh, punish me please,” I begged.

And boy, did he punish me on the couch. We ended up having sex twice there before we realized that we were literally sweaty and smelly, so we decided to take a shower together and had sex there too. I swore that day, each orgasm that I had was stronger than the last. I didn’t know what was going on, but I wasn’t complaining.  

So that was the story of how the “bull” came to be, and the nickname “Bull” became a regular after then. I teased him whenever the opportunity presented itself – while watching TV, during grocery, inside the car, or even sex (“Oh, yes, you Raging Bull!”). He gave a façade of irritation whenever I used that nickname on him, but I once caught him smiling when he thought I wasn’t looking when I used that damned nickname again.

As I looked at the stuffed toy, I couldn’t help but reminisce about fond memories I had with Bill. Things weren’t as bad as I thought they were, were they? When I made my decision to end things with him, all I recalled back then were the negative things about him – his irritability, his impulsiveness, his knack for short-term relationships – that I had completely forgotten about the positives – how happy I was with him, how time stopped whenever we were together, how life became easier and better with him.  

I looked at the toy again, and a twinge of regret sprung in my chest.

_I am going to miss my Bull._ _☹_


	7. Our Last Hurrah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised...regular updates! My exam is over and I am freeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

"Hey, come in."

Bill arrived at my doorstep thirty minutes later. He was wearing a pink button-down shirt, a pair of jeans and Chucks. I really thought he was going to a Sunday family, picnic, not a nighttime New York date. Of course, I didn't dare voice out that opinion as I might finally sever that thin thread called "friendship" that connected me to Bill. Instead, my flashed my best smile and let him in. He immediately went straight to the couch. He noticed the bull stuffed toy sitting there.

"Oh, did your boyfriend gave that to you? 'Cause you're full of bullshit?" Bill retorted.

Ouch. I deserved that.

"Actually," I sat down beside him and put the doll on top of my lap. "The doll is for you."

Bill gave me a confused look.

"Okay?" he said tentatively. He looked a bit disgusted at the toy.

I put the toy in his lap. "Bull...that's you. That's what I love to call you. I mean, friends tease each other right? And no matter what happens between us, you'll always be my Bull." 

Bill played with a toy affectionately, and I felt a bit relieved that he liked it. "I should have given you a bunny in a corset and fishnet stockings. Because you'll always be my Playboy Bunny."

"Nah, I'm not," I said, biting my lip. "You're so sexy, handsome and charming; you'll find another Playboy Bunny soon enough."

"That’s right. In fact, I am already holding auditions tomorrow." His smile was back on his beautiful face again, and these fucking butterflies in my stomach were alive again. "They have large shoes to fill, though. That last Playboy Bunny was really something."

I felt my face burn red hot. I was grateful that I didn't have rosacea like he did.

“Yep, that Playboy Bunny was really something. She was a total bitch and played you for a fool,” I laughed nervously. I tried to keep it cool, but deep inside, my stomach was twisting into knots.

“Sure she did. She even had the nerve to fuck another guy in front of me. I thought she was my fuck buddy?”

Oh, God. He brought that up right off the bat.

“W-w-well,” I cleared my throat, “that’s because she’s a total bitch for breaking up with you. Who does she think she is? She’ll just walk up to your apartment one day and tell you it’s over that’s because she found someone else? The nerve of her!”. Yep. The nerve of me. What was I thinking?

“And she even poured red wine all over me. When I was kissing her. And she was kissing me back,” Bill piled in on the faux indignation. “That whore. Red wine all over my most expensive suit!”

Oh crap. Now I’d have to foot the dry cleaning of his suit too. But anyway, that was not the point. The point was…

“I am a bitch, I know,” I finally said out loud, my hand resting on his thigh. “I am a bitch for making a decision about us without involving you and how I acted after it. I was petty, and I acted like an ass. You are blameless in all of this. I don’t blame you for getting mad at me. Hell, you should be fucking mad at me! I would if someone did to me what I did to you! And yet, here you are, wasting your time listening to me. You even blew $10,000 just to force me to do whatever you want for six hours? What do you want me to do for six hours anyway?! Why didn’t you come earlier?!” I threw my arms up and flung them over my head. I was almost out of breath from that incessant rambling.

Bill cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, but the bull stuffed toy remained in his hand like his most treasured possession. “That was a lot of talking and incoherent thoughts.”

Yes, it was, but I didn’t care much. I cared what he had to say.

“So, why? Why didn’t you come earlier? $10,000 for a six-hour date is nothing to sneeze at. I mean, you can pay for a band of hookers to fuck you all night long.”

Bill sighed. “I didn’t know what I was thinking. I mean, I knew I wanted to get back at you for what you have done to me. Or at least, make you do my every command for six straight hours.“

“You can actually make your fantasy come true,” I offered. “I won’t make a peep. You have me for six hours. I can do it for you.”

Bill shook his head. “Nah. I thought of that but I respect you too much to jeopardize your budding relationship with Gerry. After all, you’re not a whore. You deserve much more than that. I tried hatching a revenge plan, but once I executed it, I immediately regretted it. I cowered in my guilt so I just…I just decided not to show up. Maybe you’ll hate me less that way.”

“But I don’t hate you,” I corrected him. “Far from it. I like you so much, Bill, and I respect you as a person. Whatever it was that you were planning against me, I forgive you already.”

Bill’s smile once again flashed on his face. “Thanks.”

“But on one condition,” I said.

“Name it?”

I took his free hand and rubbed the back of his hand with my thumb. “Will you forgive me too?”

His smile widened, and the weight that had been dragging on my shoulders was suddenly lifted. I felt the air flow back freely in my chest. His smile, it was so fucking beautiful. It could stare at him all day.

And those kind blue eyes pierced at mine, filling my body with warmth.

“Of course.” In the middle of my euphoria, I didn’t immediately notice that the raised my hand and tucked it into his cheek. I felt my face grow hotter than a fireball. The knots in my stomach twisted further that I was almost sure that this was an ulcer, and my heart was pounding harder and harder with each second that I thought that I was going to burst.

“I forgive you,” he said. I didn’t realize that I was holding my breath until my lungs began screaming for air. His face was inching towards mine, and I to him. We were so close that I could see even the smallest pore of his skin. It felt like a very lucid dream. Like sleepwalking, except that I wasn’t walking, but moving closer and closer to him. My eyes closed on their own, and my belly was churning in anticipation. I could feel his breath fanning my lips. A little more…just a little more until I taste those sweet lips again…

As I was breathlessly waiting for him to finally close our distance, the warmth around my lips suddenly disappeared, and his lips never came. I opened my eyes just to see him give me an apologetic look. What the fuck was that?!

“I better go. It’s not wise for me to stay here,” Bill gulped as he stood up to leave. Just like that, he pretended that nothing had happened between us, that he didn’t feel anything. If those few seconds of near-touching was an indication of anything, it was that whatever I was feeling, he felt it too. I knew it. And it was frustrating me that he wasn’t going to do anything about it. He was going to run away from it all, even though he fucking knew and felt that something – something bigger than the two of us – had risen awake. Typical Bill. Whenever he was afraid of something, he runs away. He hides. He brushes it off. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t the type to just let it go.

“So, you’re just going to let it go, huh?” I called from the couch with much bitterness in my voice. Bill stopped dead in his tracks, but he did not look at me.

“You have a boyfriend, Hillary,” he said quietly. “I am not going to ruin your life or your dreams just because of something that I felt.”

“But I felt it too! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?!” I screamed, directing all my frustration to him. Tears were starting to fall from my eyes unchecked.

“Hillary,” he said calmly, still not looking at me, “You wanted a real relationship. A boyfriend. A family. I cannot give you that. I don’t know how to love a woman. The last woman I tried to love slipped away from me, and I am certain that someday, you will too.”

“You don’t know that!”

“You already did, Hillary,” he said quietly. Those four words slapped hard me in the face. He was right. I did leave him. I left him to find someone better. I deemed him unworthy, and I threw him away at first light.

But…but I didn’t know! Back then, I thought he was just someone that I was deeply attracted to! He was a great friend and an excellent lover, but I wasn’t able to see past that! Now that he was out of my life, I realized that he was something more. He was way more than I thought he was. The jealousy, the guilt, the hurt, the longing. All those emotions that I had felt during the past few weeks didn’t make sense at first, but now, it was clear as day. My feelings, my actions and my thoughts all point to one crucial fact.

I love him. 

I love him more than Gerry. I love him more than life itself. I love him more than my work. I love him more than my friends. I love him more than I love New York City. I want to him to be mine, and me, his. I want him to be my man. He once told me how he never experienced the love of a father. Well, I wanted to be the one to show it to him, by bearing his children. Bill. Bill Clinton. William Jefferson Clinton. A flawed human being. Sometimes an ass, sometimes a jerk. But hey, I wanted him to be my jerk. And I, Hillary Diane Rodham, would like to be his bitch, the bitch who would love him no matter what.

Before Bill could take another step, I uttered the words that made sure that he would never leave.

“I love you, Bill,” I said, my voice desperate, but nevertheless, truthful.

He turned to face me, but he made no move to approach me.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” Bill said with a sad smile, “but I think we have hurt each other too much to start all over again.”

All of a sudden, it was him who was cynical of us, instead of me, the one first threw water on the idea that we could be together just because we had so many issues to deal with. The roles have been reversed, and it was now I who was eating crow. I now knew what it felt like when I came to his apartment that fateful afternoon to end things between us. It hurt beyond my wildest imaginations, beyond what my heart could bear. Don’t get me wrong, I had my fair share of heartbreaks, but none of them came close to the sight of Bill walking away from my door and leaving me behind.

There goes the love of my life.

I didn’t dare follow Bill when he left. Whether or not it was due to my pride, or to my shattered heart, it did not matter. I was both numb and in pain at the same time. The tears kept flowing. My knuckles were clenched so tight that my fingernails were piercing my palm. I didn’t know whether to scream, kick and cry, or to bottle up all the hurt that I felt inside me. My body felt like collapsing, but my legs were strong enough to sustain me. I did feel very weak, though. To say that I was devastated was the understatement of the century. I couldn’t find a word to describe what I was feeling at that moment. However, I was sure that I wanted to cry and to curl up into a ball in my hard, cold bed.

I didn’t tell anyone about what happened between me and Bill that night, including my friends. I simply told them that it was a rather uneventful evening, and we went home in our separate ways. Of course, they had no idea that Bill and I finally told our feelings for each other. The girls seem quite happy that I was finally able to move past Bill so that I could return to my life with Gerry. To be honest, I did not think I could ever spend a second with Gerry without Bill in my mind. Being with Gerry would simply trigger my impulse to wonder: What if I hadn’t screwed up my relationship with Bill? What would we do at that moment if we were still together?

Gerry arrived home a week after my encounter with Bill. Though I was miserable, his company had been very welcome. I couldn’t get Bill out of my mind, but Gerry’s thoughtfulness helped me make it through. Thank God Gerry didn’t ask for sex, or I would probably have cried in the middle of it. But for the rest of our time together, I maintained a happy façade just so I wouldn’t rock the boat.

In other words, I was trying to pretend that I was happy even though I was not. However, I knew I am strong. I can take anything life threw at me. I didn’t graduate Wellesley for nothing. Just as when I thought that I was doing fine, life came back to bite me in the ass. Hard.

I was lounging on my couch, watching my favorite shows (#TGOT) when my phone vibrated. I looked it up and I saw what seemed to be an urgent text message from Laura:

**_Girl, check Pornhub._ **

I didn’t see any reason for the fuss, so I checked the site out. Whatever Laura’s reason for urgency was, it was immediately revealed to me when my eyes darted to a screencap that unmistakably showed two people I knew very well: Bill and I, with me on all fours and him fucking me from behind.

Shit.

I opened the video, and to my horror, it was indeed us in it. It was the video that Bill filmed months ago. He wanted a video of us for a “keepsake”, but at that time, he told me he wanted something to masturbate with, so I consented in filming it. Of course, I trusted him to keep its existence secret.

Never did I imagine that he would use that video to get back at me.

Whatever feelings of longing I had for it, they are immediately dissipated. They were replaced with rage, bitterness, and regret. I wanted to punch him in the face so badly. I felt I was royally fucked by this piece of shit. There he was, talking about how he felt about me and how he respected me and all that, and then a few weeks later, he would leak our video online to exact his revenge on me.

My eyes dimmed. My blood was boiling. There was no fucking way I was going to let him get away with it. Still in flipflops, loose T-shirt and shorts, I left my apartment and made my way to his condo. When I entered his building, my footsteps were thundering as I climbed upstairs. Because I was in a fit of rage, I foolishly did not take the elevator, and that meant that I was sweaty and panting by the time I reached the 6th floor where his condo was at. Unit 607. I finally made it to his unit and banged his door incessantly.

A flustered Bill barely opened the door when my hand forcefully exhibited my rage in his face. A loud crack had erupted when I slapped him in the face. I hit him so hard that he was almost thrown out of balance.

“What the fuck are you thinking?” I said, panting hard.

Bill was nursing the red mark on his face with his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I am not stupid, Bill. I know you’re the one who leaked the video online!”

“What video?” Bill’s face was genuinely confused, and it only made me rage more.

“THAT VIDEO OF US YOU FILMED MONTHS AGO! IT’S NOW ON THE FRONT PAGE OF PORNHUB!” I said the last word with equal intensity as the others, but I didn’t care if people came out of their doors to listen to our confrontation. If I was going to be ruined because of this, I was going to make sure he was going down with me.

“Quiet! The neighbors might hear us,” Bill hushed me.

“I don’t fucking care. You should have thought of that before you did your revenge porn against me.” Bill’s first signs of frustration were beginning to show. “Revenge porn? I did nothing of that sort.”

Based on his body language, Bill seemed to be telling the truth. But that didn’t stop me from piling all my rage on him.

“Oh please. Only you have that video. You didn’t even give me a copy!” I rolled my eyes hard.

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to you. I know I have every reason to get back at you, but I didn’t!”

I pressed my index finger to his lips. “Look, I don’t want to hear another lie,” I scoffed. “On second thought, why the hell did I even come to your apartment? I know you will just deny your wrongdoing. Same old, same old Bill Clinton.”

I shoved him away before I turned my back against him to leave, but before I could make my first step, he forcefully grabbed my wrist. I was quicker, so I resisted his grasp.

“Let me go, asshole,” I hissed.

“Why do you always think the worst of me? First, you think I am not good enough for you. Now, you accuse me of something I didn’t do. Is that how low you think of me?”

“Fine, I was wrong not to give you a chance. But the video leak? You are the only one who possesses it! It’s fucking natural for me to think that it was you!” I spat back.

“But I already denied it! Why won’t you believe me? Do I really look like a fucking asshole to you?!”

It was the first time Bill raised his voice at me. Truth be told, it sent shivers all across my body, but it wasn’t the usual kind of shiver that he elicited out of me. For the first time, I was scared of Bill Clinton. I stepped back a bit, just in case I managed to provoke him.

Still in his grasp, I pulled myself away, and I managed to set myself free. Sadly, my freedom was just temporary, as he was able to take a hold of both of my wrists.

“I’m gonna scream that you’re a rapist if you don’t let me go,” I quietly threatened him.

“Go ahead. I’ll just commit the crime you accuse me of.”

My momentary confusion gave him a slight advantage over me. Catching me by surprise, he slammed his lips into mine and pulled me inside his unit. My temporary shock prevented me from feeling and doing anything, though I did hear the door close. In time, his rough, forceful kisses gentled, and I melted into his arms. My defense against him was too weak, and thus, I finally returned his kissed with the same passion and intensity.

Needless to say, it was a total bliss. I missed him so much, and I craved for his touch for so long. It felt…it felt so right. All that pent-up frustration, sadness and bitterness that accumulated over the past few weeks started to melt away. Only Bill could make me feel so special and loved. Each time he touched me was a testament to that, and I was a fool not to notice that sooner.

As I was reeling in that feeling of joy and satisfaction, I felt the air cool between us. I opened my eyes and I found Bill pushing me away.

“I’m so sorry…” he said.

No. His apology wasn’t going to cut it. I didn’t want his regret.

I want all of him.

Before Bill could turn me away, I pulled him back, and I silenced him with the most passionate kiss I had ever given him. My hands snaked behind his neck and I pulled him closer. I never wanted to let go. Judging from the groans that escaped from his mouth, he was feeling the same way too. Without breaking our kiss, Bill lifted me up in his arms and I instinctively hooked my legs around his hips. I could feel the faintest traces of his erection rubbing against my thighs. A moan involuntarily escaped my lips, anticipating the events that were about to come.

Once finally inside his bedroom, Bill gently laid me on the bed. I wasted no time undressing, and he was busy removing his shirt and pants. Once he was fully naked, I grabbed his erect member, with just the right amount of pressure that I knew would make him breathless. True enough, I heard him grunt, and that was the loveliest sound that I had ever heard.

His eyes were fluttering as I began to stroke him. I missed touching him like that, and watching him come undone before my very own eyes. We weren’t both virgins the first time we had sex, but every time we made love, we both that felt exhilaration and thrill we only thought was present during one’s first time.

Wait.

Did…did I really say it? We made…love?

Yes, I did! I said it because that’s what it was. We made love because we were in love. It took us quite a while to figure that out, but nonetheless, that fact held true.

As I stroked Bill, my tongue and my entrance became jealous of my hand that had contact with his hardness, and I wasn’t sure which of them was dripping more.

I would have put my mouth all over his shaft, but it seemed that Bill couldn’t take it much longer.

“I want to be inside you, Hillary,” he panted.

I was not in the mood to oppose, but I wasn’t going to be entirely submissive either. Bill crouched down, and once he was directly on top of me, I hooked my leg into his ass and flipped us.

“Just like the old times,” I smirked.

“Just like the old times,” he said, smiling.

I lowered myself, and I relished the feeling of being completely filled again. Fuck. How I missed this. I loved how he felt inside me. My walls were pulsing as I slowly inched my way down his length until I completely took him in.

“Fuck Hillary. You feel so good around me,” he groaned.

The feeling was mutual, Buddy. The feeling was mutual.

With my head reclined back, I rocked my body over his hardness while I held the back of his head to the side of my neck. I felt his tongue and teeth marked me. Gentler and more tender than any lovemaking we had done before. Soothing. Passionate and beautiful. I had taken him inside me once more, despite common sense. I still had a boyfriend who adored me. He still wanted to move on from our destructive relationship. But an emotional connection as strong as ours couldn't just die and fade away. Dammit, I hated how much he still meant to me, how when he kissed my coherent thought shut down. But even though I hated such effect he had on me, I still loved him nevertheless.

I rode him eagerly. I sank onto him over and over, slowly impaling myself on his cock because I absolutely loved that raw, primal sexuality he wore all over his face. He was so hard and smooth inside me. This sensation of being completely filled...it must be illegal because it was so perfect. My right hand lovingly caressed his face, tracing over his jaw, tapering off his chin as he held his stare on me the entire time. The feelings were too close to the surface, so I dove after him. My tongue was probing hungrily between his lips as I rode harder. His hands clasped and squeezed my bare ass in time with my thrusts as the soft, smacking noise of frantic fucking grew until I felt him swell, tense and then throb powerfully inside my walls.

I swallowed his orgasmic cry in my kisses, covering his mouth, swallowing his grunts as his cock jerked and spasmed inside me, bursting spurts of hot, wet heat until I had taken all that he had to give. And even then, I kept on riding until I had it all, joining him in his euphoric bliss. Until I milked him for all he was worth. Until he was dry, empty and broken. We were shivering in each others’ arms, still connected in every way a man and a woman could be. Brushing his face against mine gently, Bill pressed his forehead against mine and sighed.

"Hillary," Bill breathed softly against my temple. "I…I…"

“Shhhhh,” I stopped him. I knew he was still confused about everything, and my sudden appearance and our encounter would only complicate things between us. After all, I managed to doubt him again, even after our declaration of our feelings for each other.

Bill couldn’t say that he loved me back. He was too broken and fragile to do that now. But, I knew that I was in the right place when he pulled me beside him and wrapped his arm around me, allowing me to bask in his cocoon of love.

“Just…sleep with me tonight,” Bill said. “You’ll be safe in here. No one will ever judge you or fault you. I promise you that.”

For the first time in weeks, with the weight of the scandal on my shoulders, I slept as soundly as a carefree baby.


	8. Karma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of time in my hands. LOL. Thank you for the awesome feedback last chapter. I hope this sheds a bit of light on who leaked Bill and Hillary's sex video to Pornhub.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Rodham. I am not done with you yet!”

Gerry marched angrily and slammed my door as I tried to get away from him. He had seen the sex video a couple of hours ago, and he raced straight to my apartment for an explanation. He was seething when I opened the door, understandably so. What I didn’t understand nor condone was why he was so adamant to think that I was cheating on him on purpose.

“For the last time, Gerry, I didn’t all of this because I hate you! I mean come on! Every woman would kill to have a guy like you! You know how much I like and appreciate you!” I screamed back, following him to the living room.

“Fine, then why did you do this to me? To us? I thought you wanted to be serious!”

I closed my eyes and tried to remain calm. “I do. But…it just sort of happened. But that video? That was filmed months ago. When I was sleeping with Bill. He was my booty call. But that was before. I broke off our arrangement and now I am free with you!”

Gerry scoffed. “As if! That same guy is the one who won the auction! Don’t tell me that has nothing to do with this!”

My blood suddenly churned. I didn’t expect that Gerry would have known that.

“How did y-?”

He cut me off. “I am right, am I not? You fucked that night behind my back!”

“We didn’t fuck that night, dammit!” Gerry was beginning to get on my nerves.  I would like to think that rage clouded his judgment at the moment, but I could not hide the fact that he was overreacting. However, I really couldn’t begrudge him the right to rage at me like that. After all, I did cheat on him. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Convince me that you aren’t together,” Gerry said, his arms folded and his tongue clicking.

I would have screamed BECAUSE HE DIDN’T LOVE ME, DAMMIT, but I would just dig myself into a deeper hole. But in reality, that was the only reason that kept us from being together. Otherwise, I would have shown Gerry the door a long time ago, and I would have invited Bill to move in with me. But life was being a bitch to me, just like how I became a bitch to Bill, and I was getting my just desserts.

“I choose you,” was my lie, just so I could save my face.  “I choose to be with you. What Bill and I had was just physical. Us? We are so much more than that.” I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around him.

Boy, my lying skills had been increasing at an exponential pace.

Gerry seemed to be unaffected by my advances. “I call your bluff.”

I blinked. “What?”

“That night in Williamsburg, in the alleyway,” Gerry grunted, appearing to control his rage, “you were fucking me, but in your mind, you were fucking him.”

“How did y-?”

My knee-jerk response was a dead giveaway that I was completely aware of what Gerry was talking about, so I covered my mouth before I could dig myself into a deeper hole.

Gerry remained stony-faced. I could tell that he really wanted to scream and rage at me. His nostrils were flaring, which was never a good sign. His lips were reduced to a very thin line and his brows were practically meshed into his eyelids.

“I saw you at the restaurant and in the alleyway,” Gerry revealed, “You were eyeing this guy while we were having out date. I was extremely jealous of that guy, but I didn’t make a peep because I thought you didn’t know him. Then I saw the video. It doesn’t take the FBI to connect the dots, Hillary.”

My eyes were wide with shock. I was stunned to hear what Gerry had just told me. He…he knew?

“It wasn’t all that, Hillary,” Gerry added. “You moaned ‘Raging Bull’ during sex. Once I found out his name, it wasn’t too hard to convince myself that it was the same guy you were thinking about.”

God. He caught me red-handed.

“You really did graduate from Wharton,” I tried to make light of the situation.

“If I that smart, I would have dumped you the morning after,” he said icily.

I bit my lip and hung my head in guilt. What more could I possibly say? He busted me. There wasn’t a single lie that came out from his lips. I refused to admit it at first, but I did, in fact, cheat on Gerry with Bill, even though Bill and I never became official. Heck, Bill and I even had a one-night stand after the scandal broke. I should have restrained myself when I should have, and yet I did not. I felt like a total piece of shit for shitting on two good guys all at once. While I had no fucking idea what I was doing during the past few weeks, I refused to condone my actions. I hate infidelity like it was the plague, and because of my confusion and turmoil, I became the person I despise.

“I’m so sorry,” was all I could say.

Gerry shrugged, and I heard his voice crack. Oh Gerry…I didn’t mean to…

“I am not going to ask you why, because I don’t think you yourself know the answer.” Once again, Gerry saw right through me. “I just want to know once and for all: Do you love him?”

Sadly, that wasn’t very hard to answer.

“Yes,” I tried not to look at him, not because I was ashamed of Bill, but because I was ashamed of what I did to such a good man like him. “I love him more than I cared to admit, and in the process, I managed to break your heart.”

“Okay,” he sniffed again. “But I have one last question.”

“Fire away,” I said.

“Did…did you ever think we stood a chance?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I did. I sincerely thought I did. You were amazing, and I was happy. It’s just that…I missed him, and I realized that despite his flaws, he was the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Gerry chuckled sadly. “For the rest of your life, huh? Guess I can’t beat that.”

“We were at the wrong place and at the wrong time, Gerry,” I said. “If we met before I met Bill, we would have gone places.”

“I don’t think so, Hillary,” Gerry disagreed, “it seems to me that he’s the love of your life. I don’t think I can stand a chance against him.”

Sadly, Gerry was on point.

“Oh well, you take what you get. I think you won’t take offense if I block you on Facebook and delete all of our photos?” Gerry asked.

I shook my head. “It’s the least I deserve. You could have put a restraining order against me and I would still think it’s kind.”

“I’m not a monster. You’re not Ann Coulter,” Gerry said.

In the midst of this dire situation, I felt my insides lighten with laughter. _Sigh_. I’m going to miss Gerry’s humor.

“I guess this is it?” I said.

“You bet. I am going to miss the sex, though. I have to admit, you were the best,” he replied.

“Lots of practice,” I patted his shoulder. “I am sure you’ll find a funny, sexy woman who can be your practice buddy and take care of your heart at the same time. Sadly, I can only do one for you.”

“And really thought you were a multi-tasker, being a doctor and all…”

I chuckled. “Apparently, that only applies to work. Relationships, on the other hand…”

“I know.” Gerry’s tears had dried already, and I was somewhat relieved to see him smile a bit, even if it was forced.

Gerry gave me one last kiss on the temple, and he left without another word. This was the second time a man walked out on me in weeks, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Another chance blown, Hillary. Great work, bitch. At this rate, with the number of guys I was turning away, I could audition for the next season of The Bachelorette.

But still, his departure didn’t hurt as much as when Bill did it. As if I needed more evidence that Bill weighed heavier in my heart than Gerry did. Though I wish we could remain as friends. Gerry was very good company, and as evidenced by our break-up, we did get along really well. There was no doubt that we were fond of each other. It’s just that we were not meant to be from the very beginning.

With Gerry out of the picture, there was still the matter of the video scandal still circulating over the internet. The hospital had finally caught up with it, thanks to the TMZ correspondents masquerading as nurses at NY Presbyterian. When the scandal hit its peak, I always attracted the glances of staff and my fellow doctors when I pass through the hallways. Occasionally, a random patient or visitor would catcall me or jeer me from behind, saying things like “Nice ass!” or “Suck me when you do your rounds, will ya?” I would have loved to turn back and smack the shit out of them, but I was a doctor on duty, and it would go against the principles of a doctor if I had inflicted harm on the life I had vowed to protect.

The scandal even reached the eyes of my patients and their parents. Some of them, understandably, left and found themselves a new pediatrician, but the ones who remained were eyeing me very cautiously as if I was a bad lady. I couldn’t blame them, though. They were parents, and they only want the best for their children. I would have probably done the same if I had known that my kid’s doctor was a porn star on the internet. However, I was thankful to those who never wavered their faith in me, and it only strengthened my resolve to help the children be healthy and strong.

In the midst of these terrible times, work had been my solace. With the scandal and my break-ups, I kept myself busy. I did longer hours at the hospital. Yes, the environment was hostile to me, but seeing those smiles on the children's faces was more than enough for me. It was the boost that I needed to sustain me in this ordeal. It reminded me why I chose to be a pediatrician in the first place: Children would never judge you for who you are or what you have done. For them, you are just the same as anybody else. You are a friend, and you are special.

On the other hand, it did make me wonder about having a kid of my own. That was one of the reasons I broke up with Bill and hooked up with Gerry. I wanted a family of my own. Fast forward a couple of weeks, I was further behind on that front than I was a few weeks ago. Both men hated me, and I had thrown all my prospects of dating a decent guy out of the window. (Or as Anita would say, I kinda Monica Lewinsky-ed myself).

My life was in total shit, but that didn't mean I couldn't do anything about it. After weeks of sexually charged bullying from my colleagues, patients and other people in my circle, I decided to take action. I called Bill and asked him to refer a good lawyer to me so that I could so Pornhub and whoever it was who leaked the video (though it was my damn fault that I lost the CD). He too would be launching a legal action after the scandal, so he suggested we do a joint suit. I also filed a complaint to the NYPD and to the FBI to help with the investigation.

One night, I received a call from Bill. He told me that his buddy was willing to represent us and was scheduled to meet with both of us next Saturday. I didn't have work on that day so I agreed to it. I did feel a bit squeamish though since it would be the first time I would be seeing Bill since I slept with him in his apartment.

Saturday came, and I had never felt more nervous in my life. We were supposed to meet at Bill’s bar, Cassini for the initial interview with the lawyer. The lawyer that he referred was a childhood friend and a colleague from the law firm he worked in before. His name was Vince Foster. When I arrived at the bar, Bill and Vince were already there.

“Hi. Sorry, I’m late,” I apologized to the men.

Bill and Vince stood up to greet me. Vince and I shook hands and gave Bill a small nod. Bill pulled the chair next to him for me, and I acknowledged his polite gesture with a smile. So far, so good. No awkwardness between us, and I was grateful for that small blessing. “

So, this is the famous Hillary Rodham,” Vince smiled at me.

“That’s no surprise since I almost broke the internet,” I tried to lighten up the situation.

Vince chuckled. “No, really. Bill told me a lot about you. He could have been your biographer.” As Vince revealed Bill’s little secret, I saw the latter turn beet red. It was cute and adorable, though I was pretty sure that it was the last emotion he wanted at the moment.

“And for the record, I haven’t watched the video in question. I don’t want to unless it’s absolutely necessary. And besides, I don’t think I’ll ever look at Bill the same way I again if I did,” Vince added.

“Alright,” I felt relieved at his confession. “I appreciate it, Vince.” Vince’s tone suddenly turned businesslike. “Furthermore, I don’t think that video needs anymore audience, and that is why I am here. I want to help you curb the circulation of that video, demand appropriate damages from Pornhub and make the leaker of the video pay for his crime, and that’s exactly what I am going to do.”

Both Bill and I nodded, feeling assured by Vince’s promise. Bill, Vince and I discussed the circumstances that led to the leak of the video. It was I who first got to tell my story. As part of Bill’s “revenge plan” against me (which up to now, I had no idea what it was since it never pushed through), he sent me the CD with strict instructions not to watch it. During that time, I was too busy preparing for my date with Bill as an apology, and thus, I lost track of the CD and it didn’t float in my mind until Bill reminded me of it. I didn’t pay much attention to it until it leaked online and I marched straight to Bill’s apartment and…uhm…got my answers (I saw no reason to tell Vince that something else _happened_ ).

 It was then Bill’s turn to tell his side of the story. As I listened, I realized I never asked him what he was planning for his revenge against me. I thought he was going to tell Vince about it, but instead, he insisted that he withhold the information until absolutely necessary. I did have a feeling that it was something very sensitive, and I was grateful that Vince didn’t push further.

Based on our initial conversation, Vince was convinced that we had a pretty solid case against Pornhub and whoever leaked the video to them. It was clearly a private video meant for personal consumption, and the theft of the video could be constituted as a felony. At the end of the meeting, Bill and I had so much hope that justice would be served. Vince promised to deliver the maximum punishment for the perpetrators, and his assurances eased the weeks of stress that had been piling up inside me due to the fallout of the scandal.

Once Vince left the bar, Bill and I remained in our seats. Neither of us had the desire to leave as if we had mentally told each other that there were a lot of things that we needed to discuss. We both knew what we had to do, but neither of us was willing to make the first move.

The ease of our conversation with Vince earlier suddenly disappeared. It felt so awkward. I sat on my hands. Bill’s gaze was everywhere except on me. We were both stalling.

I didn’t know if it was staged or otherwise, but Bill called one of his waiters and asked for bourbon for him and white wine for me. The waiter repeated the order and we smiled at him as if we were not in the middle of one of the most tension-filled moments with each other.

Once the waiter had left, I almost jumped from my seat when I heard him finally speak.

“Heya,” he said.

My heart was still pounding from the initial shock, and it persisted because of the extreme nervousness.

“Heya,” I said back. Finally, his gaze fell on me, and I felt like hot wax melting under the intense heat. Speaking of heat, I wish the temperature would go up higher so I could simply evaporate. My cheeks were hotter than the worst summer days. If you told me a few months ago that I would be sitting with Bill in his bar and dodge him as if he was a speeding bullet, I would have laughed my way to oblivion. But, here we were.

“It’s been quite a few weeks, huh?” Bill tried to break the ice.

“I know. Interesting, to say the least,” I let out a small chuckle.

“I wouldn’t use ‘interesting’ if I were you,” Bill said.

“Why is that?”

“I wouldn’t call being bullied and sexually harassed everyday ‘interesting’,” he replied, “otherwise, you wouldn’t take legal action in the first place.”

“I wish I could say something, but when you’re right, you’re right,” I replied.

“And besides, I know you. I know you are hurting,” he added, “I think I know Hillary Rodham like the back of my hand, and I know that right now, she needs a shoulder to cry on because she hasn’t cried since all of this exploded.” I…I didn’t know what to say. Bill managed to read me like an open book when nobody was able to do so. I tried to bring out a brave front to my family, friends, and colleagues, and I was satisfied, yet disappointed, that they bought my façade. I masked my hurt with anger, and in time, I came to think that those two were the same. I was so fucking wrong, though. For the first time since Gerry left me, I cried, and I cried hard. I was like a child who was wandering cluelessly in the middle of the street, looking for her parents. I was lost and hurt and afraid. But somewhere in the alleys, there was a little boy who took notice and let me in on his umbrella.

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Bill cooed as he wrapped his arm around me.

At first, I tensed in his touch, having been a stranger to it for the past few weeks, but slowly, the familiarity grew, and I softened under him. I scooted myself closer to him. I leaned my head on his chest, and my tears wet his shirt. So many emotions were fighting for dominance inside me. I was happy to be with him and I missed him so much, yet my heart still ached for what might have been. Nevertheless, this – the combination of the respite and pain that he brought – had been cathartic. I convinced myself that I would be okay, but I didn’t believe that until now.

“There, there,” he encouraged me on, “cry if you need to. I am here,” he said.

I was an obedient little girl, and I did what I was told. I cried and I cried in his chest. Occasionally, he would tuck my hair behind my ear or plant a kiss on my temple. We didn’t talk much, but it didn’t matter anyway. Our silence spoke volumes, more than any word could have. I saw that we were attracting the glances of people in his bar, but we paid no mind. Everything had been a blur for us, and then we were alone in our own universe.

Finally, it was Bill’s words that pulled us out of our trance. He lowered his head and whispered in my ear.

“Hillary, I feel I owe you an apology,” he said, “when you told me that you love me, I should have done the same, even though you already knew what I feel about you.”

I looked up at him, feeling hopeful.

“I love you too, Hillary,” Bill said softly. “I love you so much, it hurts. You know it does.”

“Yeah. We ended up hurting each other because of it,” I replied sadly, “I am sorry for what I did. I truly am.”

“I accept your apology. And for the record, I never questioned your remorse. It’s just that…”

I sighed. “I know, I know. Being well-intentioned doesn’t prevent us from acting stupidly. I fucked up, you fucked up. Well, it doesn’t surprise me. After all, all we did was fuck.”

I felt Bill’s chest rise and fall because of his suppressed laughter, and it was so good to feel that from him.

“I don’t know what will happen to us, or if ever we’ll be the same after everything that’s happened. But I want you to know that you’ll always be inside my heart. I’ll be rooting for you from afar.”

“Same here. But I want you to promise me one thing,” I said.

“What is it?”

“Remember your dream of being able to drop the ball on Times Square in New Year’s Eve? Promise me that I’ll see that one day.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that's the end of the story. And the next chapter's the epilogue. 
> 
> But some of you might ask: WHAT ABOUT THE GUY WHO LEAKED THE VIDEO TO PORNHUB? Well, I had so much fun writing this fic that I am already developing a sequel. More Dr. Rodham and Fuccboi with a Golden Heart, Bill Clinton! (bless the reader who coined that term). I won't tell much about the sequel until maybe after the epilogue. So you might have to wait until the sequel to know what happens to the FBI investigation *inserts Kris Jenner "This is a case for the FBI gif*
> 
> Until then...THANK YOU SO MUCH!


	9. Happy New Year

**_December 31, 2017_ **

2017\. Boy am I glad to see you go. I think I speak for everybody when I say that this has been a shitty year and 2018 can't come sooner, even if it's just a few hours away. The American Dialect Society had selected "dumpster fire" as the Word of the Year for 2016, and it looks like it may be the only one to win a second time. Everywhere I go I see shit. If 2016 had been the year when we lost many of beloved celebrities, 2017 has been the year when, I think, Hell had opened its portal in New York City and welcomed everyone into its depths.

Sadly, I too was siphoned in powerful suction from the underwork. I had my fair share of shitty 2017. And boy, it's a doozy. Who would have thought, exactly one year ago, that's I would be the face of Pornhub, and my budding career would crash and burn like Wile E. Coyote in every Roadrunner cartoon? I could only shake my head in exasperation. Imagine, Wellesley College commencement speaker and cum laude, Hillary Rodham, jobless, broke and single.

To be fair, it wasn't entirely my fault that my career went up in smoke like this. In fact, I was a victim. It turned out, a colleague found my private sex video (which was stupidly sent to my by booty call via mail) and sold it to Pornhub. A few weeks later, I was fired because the management thought my scandal was hampering my ability to perform my duties. I call it bullshit. My ability to treat my patients has nothing to do with whatever I do outside of my work. I felt that I was wrongfully terminated, and so I am also suing NY Presbyterian, along with my colleague and Pornhub for the unnecessary stress they have caused me.

Even if I win the case, I will not be going back to NY Presbyterian. I feel that I need a fresh start. I want to rebuild my life, hopefully not in New York (for obvious reasons). I am considering employment options in other cities: Baltimore, Boston, or even in my hometown, Chicago, to which I am partial.I have to admit that I look forward to seeing my parents more often, as I miss them terribly. Many of my friends are there too, including my bestest friend Betsy. She recently named me godmother to her baby boy Richard. I missed his baptism, but I plan to spoil the kid rotten (Sorry Betsy!).

Another reason I want to move out of New York is that it reminds me of Bill every day. Every street, every shop, every train. He always pops up in my mind. I know, I know. We love each other, that much is true, but what's the use if we can't be together. He has issues, I have issues, and we agreed that we can't be together, though it took me quite a while to figure out that despite all of that, I wanted him too. Oh well. What's done is done. There's no use crying over spilled milk.

On the last day of 2017, I told my landlady that I will not be renewing my lease for next month because I am planning to take a vacation in my parents' house for a month and then decide on my next step. She was sad to see me go, mainly because I am one of the few tenants who does not miss their rent. To be honest, I'm going to miss her too, even if she only speaks to me to collect the rent. Actually, I will be missing all of New York. From the traffic every UN meeting to the delicious food, to the Bohemians riding the subway.

Whatever happens, New York will always be my home, and I will always be a proud New Yorker.

Since this is probably my last New Year's Eve in New York, I decided to spend it in the most New York style possible: at Times Square. It's 9pm, and I'm seeing Anderson Cooper, Andy Cohen and the CNN crew standing from afar. To be honest, I want to see Kathy Griffin in person but her kerfuffle with that manchild they are calling POTUS cost her the NYE gig. Oh well. Kathy is still a legend in my eyes.

The night grows deeper and more people are flocking in the Square. It's my first time celebrating New Year's Eve in here so I am not prepared to be drowned in a sea of people. Silly of me. I should have asked my friends to come with me. But then again, they may have other plans for New Year's Eve already and I may end up being alone either way.

The more people come to the Square, the more I regret my decision to come here alone. It's no fun to come here alone. I am getting crushed in the sea of people and I am envious of the other spectators who are excitedly waiting for the Giant Ball to drop come midnight. I really thought it would be cool to see the Ball in person. But really, it's just a large electronic ball. There's nothing really special about it Except that I know someone whose lifelong dream is to be famous and influential enough to drop that Ball.

Before I catch the sniffles, I decided to leave the Square and retreat to one of the bars nearby. I know a bar near Times Square that's not packed with people at the moment is pretty much a myth right now, but I still want to try my luck. I know a certain bar named after an Italian scientist whose owner I know well will surely make space for me, but I choose not to take advantage of the owner's kindness. I'll find a bar soon enough.

It isn't 2018 yet, but hours before it dawned, I received the first confirmation of the reversal of my fortunes: Club Romanova, which is having its soft opening tonight, is not as full as its competitors in the area. I walked right in and made my way to the stools.

"Welcome to Club Romanova," the bartender, who according to his nameplate is called Claude, smiled at me. "Waiting for someone?"

"Ah, no. I came here alone, I said," I tell Claude. '"What’s your specialty?"

"Cocktails and ribs. Our borscht is to die for too. Club Romanova is a Russian and American fusion," Claude tries to entice me.

"Interesting. Though as much as I want to try the borscht, I am not in the mood to be adventurous tonight. Can I see your menu?"

"Of course." Claude hands me the menu and leaves me to choose my order. Boy, their food lineup is amazing. It has Russian dishes made to cater to American palettes. They also have classic American favorites for the risk-averse like me. I want to try the entire menu but sadly, I will not be in New York much longer.

I am still reading the menu when Claude came back with a martini.

“For you, Ma’am,” he says as he put the drink in front of me.

“Thanks. On the house?” I ask.

“No, Ma’am. It's from an admirer."

I blink. Wow. That's a first since the scandal. Somebody is low-key flirting me with. I get a little excited, but I am still cautious though. This may be a Bill Cosby thing. Claude, thankfully, understands my hesitation.

"Don't worry, Ma'am. I myself prepared that drink. No drugs or anything."

"Really," my eyebrow shoots up, but I am still smiling.

Claude winks at me and leaves me with the martini. Oh well. I don't think Claude is going to do anything to jeopardize his employment, so I take a sip of the free martini. Damn. It tastes good. Doesn't taste like anything is in it except, well, martini and olives. It's nice though. If I am not in total shit right now, I will have drunk this martini straight and wink at whoever sent this. But now, I really do feel like hugging the person who sent me this. Whoever you are, bless you.

I look around to see if anybody is glancing in my direction. That's odd. Nobody seems to be paying attention.

Right on cue, my phone vibrates from my pocket. I opened it, a message from an unknown number flashed on the screen:

**_Turn around._ **

I did as I am told, but nobody seems to be paying attention to my direction. Everyone is busy having fun hours before 2018 strikes. I give the room another glance around. Still nothing. This is beginning to get a little creepy. First the drink, then the unusual text message. What is this shit?

Moments later, I finally give my order to Claude and sit silently as I watch the people eagerly wait for the New Year. Although I have to admit that I am in dire need of company, this is better than outside where my legs hurt and I am being crushed to pieces. To the surprise of no one, the TV in the bar is tuned in to CNN. It feels odd to see something on TV when you are literally meters away from the damn thing.

The cold weather outside and the martini is taking its toll on my bladder, so I ask Claude to watch over my stool so I can go to the bathroom. He happily agrees and so I walk straight to the ladies room to pee. When I come back, I see a note on the side of the bar where I used to be.

I pick up the note and it says, "Happy 2018".

Well to whoever sent this, uh, thanks? I really have no clue what this person's end game is. Maybe it's just Claude trying to flirt with me? But then again, he doesn't know my number. And why would Claude do that? Has he not been on Pornhub? What kind of self-respecting man would genuinely flirt with someone like me, a New York City whore?

The answer, to my surprise, is behind me.

I hear a familiar raspy voice with Southern accent drawl, "May I sit next to you, Miss? I thought you'd like some company."

I become frozen on the spot, and it has nothing to do with the cold winter weather. I manage to barely nod, and I take my seat. He follows my lead, and he orders two more martinis to Claude.

"I saw you when you left for the bathroom and I told myself that I just got to sit next to you. You seem to be alone."

I dare not to look at his direction. Instead, I fix my gaze on the bottles in the liquor shelf. "Quite a deduction, Sherlock. What if I say you are wrong?"

"Then, by all means, I'll be taking my leave, Miss." I let out a small chuckle. "No, you're right. I am alone. How about you? Are you not with someone?"

"No, I am not," I hear him say. "Not since November."

"If I have to guess, I'd say that's quite a dry spell. You seem to be an attractive guy."

"If what you say is true, then are you attracted to me?" I can tell that he is staring at me, unblinking.

"My, my, arrogant, are we? Shouldn't you put that on your list of New Year's resolutions? To curb out your arrogance?" I reply.

"2018 isn't here yet, so I still have less than an hour to be an airhead."

This conversation with this "stranger" is going smoother than I imagine, smoother than his...well...I'd rather not say. My dirty thoughts manage to escape the bowels of my mind, and I suppress my slight embarrassment with a glance to his side. I notice that his button-down shirt is stained with red wine.

"What's with that dirty shirt?" I ask innocently.

"Strange story. Do you want to hear it?"

"Pray tell."

He takes a deep breath. "The love of my life was making out with me in a spare room in an auditorium. She wanted to stop me to stop kissing her so she poured wine all over me."

"My, what a bitch," I scoff hard. "You're better off without her."

"The thing is, I'm not sure I am," he says, "and now I hear she's leaving New York."

"Maybe she needs to build her life elsewhere," I feign my ignorance, "if I had to guess, maybe you and your girl are not really meant for each other.”

The two glasses of martini arrive, but neither of us pays attention to the drinks. "But who's to say? We never took a shot," he says.

My head starts to spin. I cannot bear to have this conversation. I mouth a small "Excuse me", leave my payment for the martini and walk straight out of the door. I hear the guy say "hey!" from behind but I ignore him. I cannot be having this conversation right now.

Just before I can walk out of the Club, a large hand catches mine. I try to pull away but he will not let me go. "

Mister, I need to go," I tell the guy.

"Are you really trying to push me away again, Hillary?"

I see. So the charade's off.

"I am not trying to push you away, Bill. We both agreed on our separate ways."

 "But what if I tell you that I made a mistake? That no matter how I try to convince myself that being away from you is probably the best thing to do, it isn't. Every day, I grow more and more miserable for not taking you up on your offer. So what if we hurt each other? Being apart is infinitely worse."

He...he can't have. No. Can he?

I shake my head and pull out of his grip. "That's crazy talk, Bill. Grow up. 2017's over."

I slip away from him and walk straight to the Square where more people have gathered since I left. I know it's a dumb idea to walk straight to the crowd, but my priority right now is to lose him. I don't care if people will trample me later. I needed the get the fuck out of his space. The disadvantage of being short is that I can't cover much distance in a short span of time. Unluckily for me, his legs are long, and he towers over almost everybody. It doesn't take long for him to catch up with me in a sea of people, who are already cheering for the impending Ball Drop.

"Please, don't go away," I hear him plead from behind. I finally decide to turn around and face him. "Bill...we already have an agreement. Please don't make it harder for us."

"Do you think there is something else harder than this? We already said how we-" "

I know I know I know!" I cut him off because I don't want to hear it. "No need to remind me of that."

"Perhaps you need reminding.”

I simply stare at him. My eyes are in a tunnel vision, with him at the end, and the chants of the crowd seem quaint compared to his voice.

"TEN!"

"I love you, Hillary. Please, stay in New York. With me," Bill pleads.

"NINE!"

I shake my head. "It's already been decided. I go back to Chicago then rebuild my life from there."

"EIGHT!"

"I'll follow you there, then."

"SEVEN!"

"No, you can't. You have a life here. What about your business? You dreamed your whole life for this!"

"SIX!"

"My dream is nothing if you're not in it."

"FIVE!"

My restraint is slowly eroding. I grow more and more tempted to say yes, but that last defiant part of me is holding out to the bitter end. "That's insane."

"FOUR!"

"Not as insane as not having you when we already know how we felt for each other."

"THREE!"

"I am a pariah, Bill. You deserve so much more than a whore."

"TWO!"

Bill shakes his head. "No, you're not a whore. You're my girl."

_My girl._

I tremble when I hear him say it. I am his girl. HIS GIRL! I am Bill's girl!

"ONE!"

I take a leap, literally and figuratively. At the clock strikes twelve, the world says goodbye to 2017, and I to my hesitations. I tip myself up and reach for his lips, sealing our pact with a long, fiery kiss. He seems surprised at first, but he catches up immediately. I fling my arms around his neck, and he lifts me up in his arm, never breaking our kiss.

We mutually broke apart when we hear Anderson say "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" from where the Ball used to be. We both look up to the skies with huge smiles on our face. His wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer, his coat feeling oh so snuggly.

"Happy New Year, Hilly," it's the first time he calls me by that name, and I am thrilled to hear that name from his lips.

"Happy New Year too, Billy," I respond in kind, reaching up again to kiss his cute red nose. "I love you, Billy."

"I love you too, Hilly," his forehead touches mine. “Is this your first time to kiss someone on New Year's Day?"

"Yeah, because last year, my mouth was doing something else," I recall, and it makes Bill blush harder.

"Want to do it again? Or perhaps, we can switch places?" he teases.

"I am all for it. I want so many fireworks. After all, it is New Year," I wink at him.

Happy New Year indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadaaaaaaa! Of course I can't let this fic end with them parting ways. I love them both and I can't stand seeing them apart. So...happy new year to our new lovers!
> 
> As for the sequel, we'll see more of the lawsuit Billary filed against Pornhub, and there will be jacuzzi, some angst and another bridal shower. Woohoo! 
> 
> I want to thank everyone of you who read, commented, and gave kudos. Your feedback is everything to me. Love love love! ^_^


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